


Broken Bones

by Lady_Kit



Series: Broken Bones Multiverse [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Broken Bones, Cinnamon Roll Papyrus, Cinnamon Roll Sans, Dubious Consent, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission, Non-consensual themes, Paps is a dick, Papyrus-centric, So is Edge, UF!Papyrus needs a hug, Underfell ruins everything, even if he won't admit it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-10-22 06:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 162,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10691748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kit/pseuds/Lady_Kit
Summary: "Edge was hunched in on himself, chin and shoulders tucked almost protectively. He looked defeated. Broken. Paps had seen the look often enough in the mirror that he really should have recognized it in another version of himself. There was more there, though. Fury under the fear, and a seed of determination that Paps lacked—determination, he realized, that would allow this version of himself to do terrible things in the name of survival."In which UF!Papyrus is gravely injured, and UF!Sans brings him to Underswap to recover. UF!Papyrus doesn't know how to handle genuine kindness, and US!Papyrus learns there's more to this other version of himself than he ever guessed.Warning: while there is a lot of fluff and light-hearted moments, there are also moments of heavy angst and some disturbing implications and themes. Trigger warnings are located in the endnotes of relevant chapters.





	1. Striking a deal

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Сломанные кости](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330145) by [Shauney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shauney/pseuds/Shauney)



> UF!Papyrus = Edge  
> UF!Sans = Red  
> US!Papyrus = Paps  
> US!Sans = Blue  
> UT!Papyrus = Rus  
> UT!Sans = Sans, because he refuses to answer to anything else.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paps and Edge have a misunderstanding, and Paps makes a deal he doesn't fully comprehend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in the endnotes.

Papyrus leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table, lightly dozing while his brother stood at the stove—using a stepping stool to make up for his diminutive height. The smell of cumin and cooking meat mixed in the air pleasantly, and the sizzle of the pan was a familiar, relaxing sound. He couldn’t resist the pull of the feelings of warmth and safety, and soon found himself dozing lightly. Distantly, he was aware of Sans’ happy chatter, and he managed to offer little grunts of agreement at the appropriate times to avoid his bro’s accusations of laziness.

Neither of them was prepared for the front door to suddenly bang open. Sure, they rarely locked it, but that didn’t imply an open invitation. What really shattered the peace, however, was the sudden, panicked, “PAPS!” that rent the air.

Paps’ chair tilted too far back, dumping him on the floor. Sans yelped and accidentally knocked a pan with his elbow, sending both red-hot pan and its contents to the floor. The smaller skeleton yelped, but turned to the doorway, no doubt worried about their “visitor”. Paps could not allow his younger, smaller brother to face whatever had come to disturbed their lunch break, so he scrambled to his feet to join his brother in the doorway. His jaw popped open at the sight before him.

Another Sans stood on their porch. That was not so surprising—they’d met him before, when their universes had accidentally crossed, and with some tinkering to the machine downstairs, they’d found a way to keep in touch and to contact other universes as well. Seeing this tough-talking version of Sans completely panicked and covered in marrow was worrying enough. Finding him there, apparently uninjured, and dragging his asshole of a brother—who looked completely _wrecked_ —was a good deal more concerning. And surprising. They’d only met Papyrus’s double a few times, but they’d met often enough for Paps to be absolutely certain that he hated the other skeleton.

Sans—or ‘Red’, as they’d taken to calling him to avoid confusion—on the other hand, had essentially been adopted by both Blue and Paps. He was completely panicked, his breathing erratic and his magic flaring and pulsing sporadically. His magic eye guttered and crackled. Looking at him made Paps’ soul hurt.

Blue rushed forward. “sa—blue!” Paps caught him by his neckerchief and forced the smaller skeleton to approach more cautiously. He did not trust the other Papyrus, or ‘Edge’ as they’d taken to calling him.

“please,” Red whimpered, tears gathering in his sockets, “i…i didn’t know where to bring him.”

Paps looked down at the injured skeleton and resisted the urge to suggest they drop him off at the dump, where trash belonged. Or off a cliff. “What happened?” Blue asked, worried. Silently, Paps cursed; his bro was too good for his own good.

“he finally pick on someone big enough to give him a bad time, huh?” Paps asked, unconcerned.

“Papyrus!” Blue scolded, “We have to help!”

“why?”

Blue started to reply, but Red beat him to it. “please, paps….” His voice cracked when he spoke. “…he’s my brother. i can’t l-lose—“ And them he started sobbing, threatening to dump the bigger skeleton on the ground he was shaking so hard.

Opening the door wider, Paps stepped out of the way, a silent invitation. “geeze, kiddo. way to play dirty. just take him to the spare room.”

Red didn’t waste any time. Blue took Edge’s other arm, and the two Sanses awkwardly maneuvered the much larger monster through the living room and onto the guest bed. Paps raised a browbone when he saw that marrow and congealed magic had pooled in their doorway. It stained the snow leading up the walk, too. Despite himself, a flicker of concern caused his soul to flare, but he crushed it ruthlessly. _fuckfell deserves it._ He forcibly reminded himself, thinking of the casual way the other monster would kick his brother around. If that’s how he treated the smaller monster in front of witnesses, he could only imagine what when on behind closed doors. Not that Red would tell him anything.

Casually, he followed the others into the guest room and leaned against the wall. Blue ran past to gather bandages and disinfectant while Red worked on the leather straps of his brother’s armor. Paps leaned closer, noting that the armor was caved in on one side. Fuckfell’s face was bruised and scratched as well, and a few cosmetic scratches lined his arms. It was obvious that his ribs had taken most of the damage, though.

Blue burst into the room to help Red muscle the bulky armor off. “what happened?” Paps asked.

“…undyne…” Red said, wrenching the breastplate off.

All of them froze. Paps’s mouth fell open, and Red let out a high-pitched keen. “oh,” said Blue, far too quietly for the normally vocal monster, “stars.”

The right half of Edge’s ribcage was completely shattered. They didn’t even look like bones anymore; rather, bone-pulp floated amorphously in a matrix of red magic. That magic was the only thing holding him together, at the moment. Marrow seeped steadily from the breaks, and spent magic wept from the matrix, like condensation on a cool glass. His unbroken ribs were heavily bruised, the bones flushed with healing magic. Paps swallowed, feeling sick. “holy shit,” he heard himself say. Blue didn’t even chastise him for it.

Red was hyperventilating, but he was the first to recover enough to start working on his brother again. Paps was a little impressed that Blue was able to pull himself back together enough to help him. Well, Paps had no intention of touching his ass of a copy, so he strolled out of the room, pretending not to notice the way his hands shook. For a moment, he stood in the living room, phalanges flicking his lighter. He wanted a cigarette. Instead, he poked his head into the kitchen and eyed the remains of their lunch, burnt and spilt on the floor. Too much work to clean it up. Too much work to start a new batch of tacos. Blue wouldn’t like it, but Muffet’s seemed like the best solution.

So, by the time both Sanses emerged, Paps had lunch waiting for them—and he’d had enough nicotine that he felt able to deal with the mess the multiverse had decided to drop on his doorstep. Blue sighed and put his hands on his hips, but for once, he was too worn out to scold. Instead, he sat and thanked Paps for getting lunch. Red just sat there, looking shell-shocked. “hey, kid,” Paps said as he pushed a bottle of mustard over. Red nodded his thanks, but just rolled the bottle between his hands instead of drinking. Whoa. “that bad, huh?”

Blue actually glared at his brother before turning to his duplicate. “Red,” he said gently, “you can go rest in my room. Since, uh, Edge is taking up most of the spare bed. We can share; it’ll be like a sleepover!” He tried to inject his usual enthusiasm into the last sentence, but his permanent smile seemed weak and his voice was shaky.

“thanks,” Red said, voice even gruffer than usual. He stood, but Paps laid a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down.

“you need to eat, kiddo.”

“okay, boss.” The response was automatic, so Paps tried not to take offense, but Red realized his mistake and immediately started sobbing, skull in his hands. Paps and Blue shared a look.

“I’m calling Alphys,” Blue said, “I’ll let her know we can’t go back to work.”

 

After dinner, when both Blue and Red were safely tucked away, Paps went to look in on their patient. He had to admit that the duo had done a good job. Red magic shone through the bandages, emanating heat as Edge’s native magic worked to knit the bone fragments back together. Marrow and magic no longer dripped from his ribcage, and the bandages were secure, but not tight.

He surveyed his copy, curious despite himself. He’d never seen the other without his armor, and he had to confess that it was somewhat disconcerting. He’d always assumed that Edge would be smaller without it, but the scarred skeleton’s shoulders were broad, his undamaged bones robust. _geeze, who knew the edgelord was so ripped?_

Or so scarred up. A latticework of scars crossed his unbroken ribs and vertebrae. Chips were missing from more than a few bones, as well. Sure, he knew that the Fell universes were rough, but Red didn’t look _this_ bad. “hmm, whatever,” he muttered, and shrugged it off. He turned to leave, only to be surprised by a sudden flare of red magic.

It splashed against the wall beside his head, unformed and harmless. He turned and dodged before the red bone, which was certainly _not_ harmless, could hit him. He took a shortcut to the other side of the door, vaguely intending to barricade the other monster inside. He was not prepared for the door to burst open, the frame cracking as Edge kicked it open. “i hope you know you’re paying for that,” he said coolly.

Edge leaned on the doorframe, eyes blazing. “Where is Sans!” he snarled, voice a menacing growl.

Unconcerned, Paps raised a browbone, hands tucked into his pockets. “i think you should probably be more worried about yourself, pal.”

Sure enough, the injured monster was shaking with the effort to remain upright. He flung more magic at Paps, but it was, again, unformed. He didn’t even bother to dodge, just allowed the magic to harmlessly spatter across his chest before it faded to red smoke. He gave his duplicate a sardonic grin. “tell you what; why don’t you stop embarrassing yourself and go back to bed, and i’ll tell him you’re awake. how’s that sound?”

“Tell me now,” Edge snapped, “or I’ll—“

“you’ll what, fuckfell? bleed on me?”

“Papy!” Blue exclaimed from the top of the stairs. Looks like Edge’s temper tantrum had woken him. “Language! That’s no way to treat a guest!”

“and that’s no way to treat a perfectly good door,” he said, pointing to the damaged frame.

Meanwhile, Red was already tripping over himself to get down the stairs. “boss!” As soon as he was in reach, Edge grabbed Red and threw him into the spare room, slamming the door shut behind him. It bounced in the frame.

Paps frowned, marching forward. “blue, go to bed.”

“But—“

“bed, blue. i’ll keep an eye on our guests.” Blue hesitated, so Paps smiled for him. “come on, bro; the magnificent sans needs his rest if he’s going to host these two tomorrow. we got to be at the top of our game. you know how edge gets.”

Blue drew himself up proudly. “The Magnificent Sans is up for ANY challenge! But you’re right, brother; even the most magnificent of monsters, such as myself, requires plenty of rest.” He started to walk back to his room, then paused. “You’ll wake me if anything happens, right, Papy?”

“of course, bro. wouldn’t want you turning into a lazybones like me.”

Blue still looked a little uncertain, but he went back to bed. Paps turned to the door, and immediately pressed the side of his head against it. He could hear heavy breathing, and Red saying, “—to underswap. that dino-bitch coulda tracked us with ‘er cameras if i’da brought ya ta one uh my hidey-holes.”

“Are you injured?”

“nah, boss. i’m fine; fish-face couldn’t touch me if she tried.”

“Good. Your training wasn’t a complete waste, then. My efforts to keep you from falling asleep on the job obviously are, though.”

There was a long silence. Then, so softly Paps almost missed it, Red said, “sorry, boss.”

Edge scoffed. “You know the consequences for your lack of vigilance.” Then he hissed and groaned.

“boss!?”

“Don’t touch me!” Edge snarled, “I’m fine.” Behind the thin door, Paps could hear shuffling.

“okay, that is so obviously a lie, i don’t even know where to start,” said Red. Another groan from Edge, followed by pained breathing and the creak of bed springs. “hey, uh, boss?”

“What?” How, exactly, did a half-dead skeleton manage to sound like such an asshole? It must be a gift.

“not that i’d, ya know, presume ta order ya around er nuthin’, but can you…maybe _not_ go bustin’ through doors and flingin’ magic around? i don’t know, crazy idea, but you might back back on yer feet faster if ya rest a bit. and, another crazy idea, but maybe don’t antagonize paps? dude was ready to let ya dust on the doorstep.”

“Why’d he let us in, then?” _geeze, fuckfell, can you at least sound surprised?_ Sure, he’d never made it a secret that he disliked— _hated_ —the other monster, but he liked to think that he didn’t seem like the ‘callously watch another monster turn to dust before his eyes’ type.

“…i may have turned on the waterworks…. oh, c’mon, boss. don’t look at me like that. they’re _nice_. blue wanted to help soon as he saw us, an’ paps can’t say no ta blue. besides, this is underswap. it’s all sunshine ‘n rainbows here.” Sunshine and rainbows? That phrase lacked the expected sarcasm. There was something off in the way he emphasized it.

Edge didn’t say anything for a bit, apparently rolling that information around in his head. “No one’s made any unreasonable demands?”

“oh, yeah,” Red said. Ah, there was the sarcasm. “blue’s a vicious little fucker when he wants ta be. made me do the dishes after dinner ‘n everything. then they tied me down ‘n forced me ta listen while paps read some poofy-bunny story er some shit.” The clack of bone on bone sounded. “fuckin’ hell, boss; what was that for?”

“For being an idiot. This is serious.”

“boss, look, jus’ relax, okay? this ain’t underfell. they don’t even lock their doors here, fer fucks’ sake!”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t.”

“c’mon, boss. i told ya—sunshine ‘n rainbows. they won’t hurt us. them or anyone else in this universe. why’d ya think i brought ya here? even the creampuff’s universe ain’t as sweet.”

There was a long pause again. Finally, Edge conceded the point. “I suppose Swapshit wouldn’t leave his Sans unprotected. Go back to bed.”

“language, boss,” chastised Red, doing a passable imitation of Blue. Another clack of bone. “ow!”

“If the situation changes, you’ll tell me immediately,” Edge ordered.

“you got it, boss. g’night.”

Paps ducked into the kitchen, hiding from Red. He waited until he heard Blue’s door open and shut before he exhaled and leaned against the wall. His hands closed into fists as he considered what he’d just heard. As with every interaction he’d ever had with Edge, this one left him with a foul taste in his mouth. Bitterly, he grabbed a bottle of honey and drank straight from the bottle. It hit his magic with a flare, causing warmth to spread outward from his soul.

He had no idea why Red kept going back to that abusive asshat. Edge didn’t even bother trying to hide it. He didn’t act like Red’s brother—he treated the small skeleton like an underling. No wonder Red called him boss rather than bro. Paps’ hands tightened around the honey bottle.

_should have left him to dust,_ he thought angrily, taking another drink. He could _see_ Edge’s sins crawling on his back. A monster didn’t make it to that LV without dusting more than a few monsters. That went past self defense, and edged into ‘doing it for shits and giggles’ territory. If his duplicate ever found himself in Underswap’s judgment hall…. Well, he was going to have a hell of a bad time.

Paps considered going to bed, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. It was fine when he’d assumed Edge was too injured to do anything, but after that little display…. He made a beeline for the spare room.

To his surprise, Edge appeared to be waiting for him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyelights focused on the door. “I was wondering when you planned on showing up,” Edge grumbled.

Paps pulled the door shut, wishing he had some way of securing it. “i just wanted to go over the house rules,” he said, feigning warmth. Edge’s gaze flicked from him to the doorknob, and his hand curled into a fist. “hurt blue,” Paps warned, still smiling sweetly, “and you’re dust. hurt red, and you’re dust. annoy me, and you’re dust. got it?”

“The last one might give me some trouble.”

“right,” Paps replied, “you are pretty unbearable. i’ll grant some leniency on that rule, but i’m pretty firm on the other two.”

He expected an argument—especially about his second “rule”. Instead, Edge just nodded. “Fine. Now what’s your price?”

Paps blinked. “uh…what?”

“Your. Price,” Edge replied, enunciating each word as if he was talking to an idiot, “What do you want? Has Red promised you anything? Or were you waiting to deal directly with me?”

…this conversation was not proceeding as anticipated. “did you hit your head too, fuckfell? what are you even talking about?”

Edge rubbed at his nasal ridge. “You,” he said, pointing at him, “are providing sanctuary for myself and my brother while I recover. Don’t tell me you expect me to believe you’re doing so out of the kindness of your heart.” He scoffed. “You may have my brother fooled, but I know better. I am a danger to you and yours; you wouldn’t accept that risk without a reward to match.”

“…was that a threat?” Paps asked, orange eyelight flaring despite his lingering confusion. What was Edge _on_?

“No, numbskull; that was an observation. Rest assured, if I ever threaten you, you will know. Now, again—what’s your price?”

Okay, he was getting tried of dealing with this asshole. “how ‘bout you go fuck yourself, edge,” he said flatly. He couldn’t even inject any venom into his voice, he was so done with this.

Then, oddly, Edge’s breath hitched and his eyelights went out. “I…see,” he said, so softly Paps could barely hear his capitalization. “I have to say I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

Paps cocked his head slightly to the side, arms crossed. “you got sensitive ears all of the sudden, fuckfell?” Geeze, maybe he did hit his skull. If it were someone else, Paps would probably be concerned, but right now, he was just annoyed. “what can i say? guess you bring out the worst in me.”

Edge shifted, his bones clicking. “Fair enough,” he said softly.

This, Paps decided, was getting too weird. Edge couldn’t be that affected by a little profanity—he’d heard him say much worse, usually to Red. Or were his injuries getting to him? He sounded…contrite? No, that wasn’t right. _Resigned_. He sounded resigned. Oddly, that made Paps’ anger flare. “i’m not going to coddle you just because you’re injured, asshole. drop the act; it doesn’t suit you.”

The other skeleton went completely still. “You want—? Now!?”

Stars’ sakes; were they even having the same conversation? “yeah,” Paps said, just glaring passively down at the injured skeleton, “sure. now.” If the other didn’t want to make any sense, then Paps wasn’t going to try anymore.

“Fine,” Edge said, eyelights dim. Under his breath, he added, “I knew you weren’t as nice as you played at.” Then, to Paps’ shock, Edge slid off the bed and onto his knees.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

He gaped at his doppelganger, while Edge just gazed up at him. “Well?” the black-clad skeleton snapped, “I don’t have the magic for anything else. Just, manifest something so I can get you off and be done with it.”

This. This was insane. Paps took a step forward, feeling oddly lightheaded. He looked— _really looked_ —at the other monster.

**The Great and Terrible Papyrus**

**LV 13**

**HP 70/1360**

**AT 40**

**DF 40**

***This won’t kill him. He’s had worse.**

His posture wasn’t at all what Paps had come to expect, either. He was hunched in on himself, chin and shoulders tucked almost protectively. He looked defeated. Broken. He’d seen the look often enough in the mirror that he really should have recognized it in another version of himself. There was more there, though. Fury under the fear, and a seed of determination that Paps lacked—determination, he realized, that would allow this version of himself to do terrible things in the name of survival.

Moving slowly, Paps reached out and touched Edge’s shoulder on his uninjured side. The contact was feather-light, but Edge hissed and glared up at him, as if he’d been burned. Paps looked over the other monster, searching his features. Stars this was disturbing. If he whipped it out, the other monster would really—

Paps felt ill. Edge was vulnerable right now, and well aware of it. Furthermore, he fully expected Paps to take advantage of that fact. Swallowing thickly, Paps tightened his grip on Edge’s shoulder. He need an anchor, something from this moment, this timeline. Something to focus on. “edge,” he said, voice shaky, “why don’t you go on and, um, get back up on the bed. we’ve, uh, had a bit of a misunderstanding. when i told you to go fuck yourself, i didn’t mean it literally.”

Edge looked up at him, fury written in every line of his features. “Then what’s your price?” he snapped, backing away from Paps. The way he moved, it was obvious he was going to need help getting back on the bed, so Paps ducked down to hoist him up, despite Edge’s protests.

“stop squawking,” Paps snapped, “i’m trying to help!” Stars, this guy was unbearable!

“I don’t need your stars-damned help,” Edge snarled, scrambling away from him now that he was back on the bed, “Get your filthy hands off of me, and tell me your fucking price!”

Paps was too disturbed to make a ‘fucking’ pun right now, so he let it pass. Besides, it seemed in poor taste at the moment. “there’s no price, edge,” he said, backing away. “we’re just—“

“There’s always a price to ‘kindness’,” Edge hissed. “Tell me what it is _now_.”

A mix of exhaustion and annoyance caused him to make a decision he would probably regret later, but he didn’t have the patience to deal with this version of himself. If it was Red, he would have moved mountains to make him more comfortable, to make sure he knew he was safe, but Edge wasn’t worth the effort. Edge was an asshole. Edge had more LV than anyone Paps had ever even met. Edge deserved every bit of suffering he had coming to him. “you don’t really like being touched, do you, edge?”

“…Excuse me?”

“i’m not talking sexual touching,” Paps clarified, “frankly, the idea of your magic mingling with mine makes me ill.”

“Glad we can agree on something,” Edge grumbled. And that was it. Paps was done.

He surged forward, grabbing Edge by the chin and forcing him to meet Paps’ gaze. “i think that’s more than enough out of you. so, as i was saying, you don’t like being touched. i’ve noticed how you pull away every time someone tries to touch you, even if it’s just on the hand or shoulder. you always act like you’re in physical pain when someone manages to touch you, and stars _forbid_ someone like blue or rus manages to hug you.” He chuckled darkly, enjoying how Edge’s eyelights had started to fade as he spoke.

“You watch me a lot more closely than I think I’m comfortable with,” Edge said, trying for snarky but not quite managing it.

“gotta look out for my bro,” Paps said, “he sees a piece of trash like you, and he thinks to himself ‘i can fix it, make it shiny and new again’. he doesn’t realize that garbage can only drag him down into the trash heap too.”

Some emotion crossed Edge’s face that Paps couldn’t quite place. “You don’t have much faith in your brother,” he observed flatly.

“he can’t see what you are—only what he wants you to be. but this isn’t about him. its about you. you want a price, fuckfell? fine. here’s my price; you’re going to put up with whatever touching blue or i want to inflict on you. you aren’t going to struggle, and you sure as hell aren’t going to push us away. blue wants a hug? then you’re going to let him give you a fucking hug.”

“And you’ll allow Red and me to stay here, otherwise unmolested, until I am well enough to go back to Underfell?”

“yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’.

“Deal, then.”

“what? no handshake? don’t you know how to seal a deal, pal?” Edge held out his hand, and allowed Paps to shake it, though the scarred skeleton didn’t put any effort into it. Of course. The terms of their deal were rather specific; Edge had agreed to put up with physical contact, not to initiate or encourage it. “oh, and i wasn’t kidding; you’re paying to repair the door.”

Even without eyes, Edge managed to roll them. “Right. Fine. Whatever. Are you done yet?”

Just for that, Paps brought a hand to Edge’s cervical vertebrae and squeezed. “ya know, you look weird without your scarf.”

“Red knows I don’t like to get marrow on it,” Edge said, eyes averted. His phalanges twitched, hands squeezing into fists before releasing. His breathing was hard and uneven, fighting his instinct to pull away. Paps smirked, enjoying seeing the cruel skeleton so unnerved and vulnerable. This might actually be fun.

“sleep well, edgelord.” He gave the other skeleton’s vertebrae one more slight squeeze, then left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger for: unconsummated (and unintentional) sexual coercion and nonconsensual/coerced nonsexual touching. 
> 
> I know that ended on a dark note, but the fic is primarily hurt/comfort and fluff, I promise. However, there are some dark implications and unpleasant undertones. I'll try to include trigger warnings when appropriate, but please mind that this fic is marked mature for a reason.


	2. This is why we can't have nice things....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Underfell brothers prove to be most unmannerly. Also, puns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter from Paps' POV. Edge's POV is coming, though.

Paps woke up, as always, when Blue came bounding in and bounced enthusiastically on the bed, yelling for him to wake up. Paps buried himself in the covers, clinging to a pleasant dream that threatened to slip from him—

_(A red tongue on his femur, angry eyelights glaring up at him and magic crackling along his bones. “you look good on your knees, edgelord.”)_

—but that only worked until Blue grabbed him by the tibia and yanked him onto the floor. There was a reason he’d gotten rid of his bedframe and slept on a bare mattress. He blinked, more than a little dazed. Wait. Had he really been dreaming about—? He clutched the comforter to himself, then relaxed when he realized that his magic hadn’t manifested. “i’m up, bro,” he said unconvincingly. Damn it. This was Edge’s fault. He hadn’t ever thought about the other skeleton in a sexual context until he’d gone and done _that_.

“Papy!” Blue whined, “You’re just sleeping on the floor, now! Come on, brother~! It’s going to be a beautiful day; don’t you want to get up and see it?”

“…nope,” he murmured, burying himself in the crumpled comforter, “it’s beautiful enough in here.”

“You,” Blue said, lovingly exasperated, “are impossible. Too bad you don’t have a choice! Mweh heh heh!”

“bro—wait!” Without a hint of strain, Blue scooped him up, blankets and all. “nngh!” He grabbed at the doorframe as Blue carried him out of the room. “five more minutes,” he protested, but Blue didn’t even bother to reply. As he was carried down the stairs, futilely grasping at the railing all the way, he complained, “come on, blue, i’m not even dressed. for all you know, i’m not even wearing pants.”

“whelp,” said a new voice, sounding amused, “guess we’ll be getting a show, then. so, stretch, are you a boxers or a briefs man? or maybe ya prefer nuthin’ at all!” Red snickered as Paps was, surprisingly delicately, set at the dining room table beside him. The sharp-toothed skeleton winked at him. Red looked him over and said, "guess yer a 'too tired to change out of yesterday's clothes' kinda guy. heh. a monster after my own soul."

Paps blinked stupidly. “…stars, it’s way too fucking early for this…” he complained, allowing his head to flop onto the table.

“Language!” Blue scolded as he draped an orange hoodie over him.

“hrmph…” Paps replied. He was not a particularly articulate skeleton this early. He blinked. Heh. ‘Articulate skeleton’. There was a joke in there; he just needed a bit of coffee and he could find it. He cracked his eyes open and studied Red as he pulled his hoodie on. The smaller skeleton was hunched over, a mug of coffee cradled in his hands. Despite his earlier joking, the thousand-yard stare he sported now was unmistakable. “hey, kiddo, you doing okay?”

Red nodded, focusing on his coffee now. “yeah. i just…didn’t sleep much last night.”

“He’s worried about Edge,” Blue said softly as he set a cup of coffee in front of his brother.

“thanks, bro,” he said absently, still eyeing his brother’s duplicate. Gently, he pulled the other into a one-armed hug. “if he’s well enough to be throwing magic around, i’m sure he’ll be well enough to resume his reign of terror soon. don’t lose any sleep over him, kid.” _He doesn’t deserve it_. Red looked so small and vulnerable, despite the scars and the needle-sharp teeth. Paps didn’t want to let him go. He’d rather keep him here, keep him safe—from his fucked-up universe, from his fucked-up brother, everything. The kid had more than earned a break.

The guest room door creaked open. All of them turned to stare at Edge. “b-boss? yer, uh, awake?”

“Don’t look so surprised, runt,” he said, surveying the scene. His eyes lingered on Paps and Red, taking in how Paps held the smaller monster. _that’s right, fuckfell,_ Paps thought, _see how a real brother treats him._ Instinctively, he squeezed a little tighter. Edge didn’t seem to react, just fixed his gaze on Red and ordered, “Report.” Of course. He’s awake for all of five minutes, and he’s already snapping out orders.

“uh…still s ‘n r, boss.” The hell? ‘s and r’? Was that a code?

Edge raised a brow bone, but seemed to shrug it off. He took a step forward, away from the wall he’d been leaning against, and did a rather admirable job of hiding how much pain he had to be in. With those injuries, it would be a while before Edge was back to full HP. Paps smirked, enjoying how stiff the normally graceful skeleton’s movements were. Considering how many times Red had walked in here, banged up and burnt out, he didn’t feel guilty about it either.

“Edge!” He did not, however, enjoy watching Blue rush over to hug the other skeleton. Though it was amusing to watch Edge go completely stiff as he remembered their deal. “I’m so glad you’re feeling well enough to join us for breakfast!” Blue squealed, all enthusiasm and energy. He steered Edge toward the table and—gently, but firmly—pushed him into the chair beside Red.

“We’ve been worried about you! I’m making breakfast burritos; would you like one or, maybe, two would be better? You’ll need all the energy you can get to replenish your magic. What would you like to drink? Red made coffee this morning. I don’t really like it—it’s so bitter!—but Paps seems to like it, so maybe you do too? I much prefer—OH!” The sudden exclamation made the other skeletons jump. Edge had an almost comical expression of stunned confusion on his face. “Milk!” Blue declared, “Yes, I’m going to get you some milk—it helps make your bones strong!”

Edge stared at him, head cocked just slightly. Blue was so small and Edge was so tall that even seated, Edge had to look down to meet Blue’s gaze. “Milk is fine.” He spoke slowly, warily. Blue beamed at him before disappearing into the kitchen. He reappeared mere moments later, a glass of milk in hand.

After setting it before the other skeleton, Blue waited expectantly. Realizing what he wanted, Red cleared his throat. “uh, boss? blue appreciates, um, bein’ appreciated, ya know?”

Edge looked between them, obviously bewildered. It was too much for Paps, who ducked his head in an attempt to stifle his laughter. All he really managed to do was choke on his coffee when he tried to take a sip, though. He could actually feel Edge glaring at him. “Thank you, Blue,” Edge said formally, voice stiff.

Blue chirped a happy, “You’re welcome!” before flouncing away, humming brightly as he disappeared into the kitchen.

A little of the tension went out of Edge’s shoulders when he was gone. He looked to Red. “You’re up early.”

Red snorted. “no need to sound so suspicious, boss.”

“I’m just wondering if someone bothered to make sure the universe wasn’t imploding or something equally unpleasant.”

“well, you’re here. that’s pretty unpleasant,” Paps said, earning a glare.

Red drew Edge’s attention back to himself before an argument could begin. “n-no need fer that, boss. i’m awake ‘cause the blueberry over there gets clingy in his sleep. it’s like being caught by muffet.” Edge actually shuddered.

“I’m certain it’s not _that_ bad.”

“eh. underswap muffet.”

“That sounds like it could actually be pleasant.” Paps nearly choked again. Considering the incredibly disturbing dream he’d had this morning, he really didn’t need Edge feeding him any more ideas.

Red chuckled. “ya got a _bone_ fer muffet? or maybe you mean—“

Edge absently cracked two fingers on top of Red’s skull. “Keep it clean, runt.” Paps’ eye lit up automatically, but Red just started laughing as he rubbed the top of his skull.

“sorry, boss. i couldn’t resist.”

Edge sighed loudly, hiding a flinch when it caused his ribs to expand. “If you’re going to make stupid jokes, they can at least be funny. And original. Any skeleton going through puberty has heard that one enough to be nauseating.”

“what about knock-knock jokes? i been practicin’.”

“How, exactly, does one practice knock-knock jokes? No, wait. Don’t tell me. I’ve already reached my ‘stupid’ quotient for the morning.” Suddenly, his gaze fixed on Red’s coffee mug, brow-bones furrowed. He reached out and plucked it from the table. Red’s eyelights flared nervously, but Edge just looked into the murky fluid. “Red…is there mustard in this?”

“uh…no?”

“Stars,” Edge grumbled, “I don’t know why I bother.” He pushed himself to his feet, and gave a soft grunt, teeth clenched against a pained groan. Paps smirked.

“boss? you, uh, want to sit back down? maybe?”

“I’m fine!” Edge snapped.

Paps eyed the hand he had clenched around Red’s mug. “just don’t go breaking our dishes, there, edgelord.” Edge snarled at him before marching into the kitchen, his gait stiff and pained. “asgore’s hairy ass, why doesn’t he just lay down?” Paps asked under his breath, so that only Red would hear him.

Red shrugged. “ya got me. he’s always been like this. short of tying him down—which i do not recommend, by the way—or knocking him clean out, boss won’t stay down fer nuthin’.” For a moment, his perma-smile seemed particularly bright. “he’s so cool.”

Paps raised a brow-bone. “sure. if that’s what you want to call it.” He was just going to quietly do everything in his power to prevent himself from picturing Edge tied down. Nope. Not thinking about it. Not even a little—

Edge re-appeared, another mug of coffee in his hand. From the doorway, Blue watched his progress, concern evident in his features and posture. “is that one _sans_ mustard?” Paps asked, smirking. Red cackled, even as Edge looked at him with murder in his eyes.

“You unbearable—“

“Papy!” Blue protested, overriding whatever insult Edge was working on. “No puns at the breakfast table!”

“don’t try ta stop ‘im, blue,” Red said, smirking.

“Asgore’s horns, Red don’t—“ Edge started, already anticipating what was coming.

“ya know it just _eggs_ ‘im on!” Red finished. The two ‘punny’ skeletons fist-bumped, cackling.

Both Edge and Blue groaned aloud. “Red~!” Blue whined.

“Runt, I am going to break your arm if you keep that up.”

“so long as you don’t break my—“

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!”

“— _funny bone_.”

Paps lost it, nearly falling off his chair he started laughing so hard. Blue looked torn between being upset at the puns or the language. Finally, the smallest skeleton threw up his hands and asked, plaintively, “Why can’t we just sit down and have a nice breakfast?” Edge, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to murder someone. Then again, he always looked like he was one snarky comment away from homicide, so maybe that wasn’t so alarming.

Edge caught Red by the collar as he set the coffee in front of him. “Not. One. More. Word.” Red smiled weakly and nodded as sweat beaded on his brow. Edge glared down at him before taking a seat once more. He shook his head, grumbling under his breath. When things had settled down, he ordered sharply, “No mustard. I have a job for you.”

Red paused with his mug half-way to his mouth. Slowly, he set it down, all traces of his prior amusement absent from his face. “you wanna repeat that for me, boss? i musta had somethin’ in my nonexistent ears, ‘cause i coulda sworn you just said you had a job fer me.“

“You heard me.”

Red’s eyelights had gone out. He took a breath, sockets shut. Then, when he opened them again, he fixed his gaze on Edge, one eyelight burning brighter than the other. “okay, i’ll bite. what the fuck—“

“Language!” Blue protested, sounding exasperated.

“—is so important that i need to be sober and—“ He swallowed down the rest of that sentence. Red glared at Edge, sharpened phalanges tight around his mug.

Edge definitely noticed. His sockets flicked to Red’s hands before settling back on his face. Nevertheless, he didn’t say anything about it. “I need you to go back to our universe, and keep an eye out. Report back, tell me what’s going on.”

Red stared at him. “yer fuckin’ with me, right?”

Paps raised a brow. This was…interesting. He’d never seen Red stand up to Edge before. He wasn’t even stuttering. Edge, however, didn’t look surprised. He looked like he was gearing up for a fight, if anything; his breathing was steady, and his limbs were loose and relaxed. “What do you think, runt?”

“i think yer out of yer fuckin’ mind,” Red snarled. Blue appeared in the doorway, worrying at a dish towel. Paps and he exchanged a look, neither of them quite sure what to do.

“What’s the matter?” Edge asked, mockingly, “Scared? I’m not asking you to knock on Undyne’s door—just take a look around and keep out of sight. And don’t go to the house. Who knows what kind of trap Has been set up there….”

“i’m not scared, jackass!” Edge growled and leaned in, causing Red to flinch back. “boss. i’m not leavin’ when yer…well, like this.” He gestured to Edge’s bandaged ribs.

“Oh, _now_ you’re concerned,” Edge said, throwing up one hand. “Are you not convinced of our hosts’ good will?” The way he said ‘good will’, it sounded like he should put a coin in the swear jar.

“don’t be ridiculous,” Red said, warming Paps considerably. “paps ‘n blue don’t have a mean bone—“

“Really, runt? In the middle of an argument?”

“—in their bodies.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Red looked into his mug. Instead of answering, he muttered, “i don’t know why you even care about that shit-hole.”

Edge sighed, and for just a moment, his eyelights went soft. Then he grabbed Red by the collar and drew him in, so that they were socket to socket. “Because it’s _ours_ , Red. I have been—“ He cringed a little, but soldiered on, “—very publically humiliated. Whatever we’ve managed to accomplish in Snowdin the last five years has been compromised. Do you want to see it go back to the way it was?”

“i don’t give a shit,” Red said.

“Red.”

“no!” Red snarled, “they didn’t lift a hand to help us! they just _watched_!”

“Red.”

“fuck them!” Red said, eye glowing, “fuck. them.”

“…are you quite finished?” Edge asked. Red flushed and looked away, but he remained stiff, unyielding. “Did you forget what we’re trying to do?”

“…no….”

“And did you really think I’d allow something as _petty_ as this—“ He gestured to his crushed ribs, “—to stop me?”

Red sighed and rubbed tiredly at his face. “…no…you stubborn, bone-headed jackass….”

“You want to repeat that for me, runt?”

“i said ‘no, boss’.”

“That’s what I thought you said.”

Groaning, Red scrubbed his hands over his skull. “fine,” he said, “ _fine_. fine! i’ll go—“ he mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, before continuing, “you want me to just look around? that’s it?”

“And keep out of sight. Underfell isn’t safe for us right now. In fact—“ He seemed to consider something. “Come here.”

“boss, i’m sitting right next to you.” Edge didn’t say anything, just watched him expectantly. Red sighed and scooted his chair closer. “is this—“

Without a word, Edge reached up and removed Red’s collar. “It’s probably best that you not be seen wearing this right now.” He closed his fist around the collar and pocketed it.

Paps and Blue exchanged a look, neither of them able to understand what was going on between the Fell monsters. That confusion only grew when Red went suddenly still and quiet. “give it back,” he said, voice low.

“What?” Edge asked, incredulous. “You can’t possibly be upset. It took me _months_ to convince you to wear it!”

“g i v e  i t  b a c k!” Red snarled, lunging for him when Edge didn’t respond fast enough. The chairs toppled, skeletons and all. Paps leapt up and jumped away, completely at a loss. What was—?! The two Fell monsters were growling and hissing as they grappled with each other. Ordinarily, Edge would have the advantage, but injured as he was, he was having a hard time. Red seemed too blinded by rage to notice his brother’s handicap, either to take advantage or to have mercy. He just kept screaming, “give it back!”

Paps and Blue were too stunned to do anything. It had happened so fast, and really, what was one supposed to do when an impromptu wrestling match broke out at the breakfast table? It was just…surreal.

Suddenly, an honest cry of pain sounded, and a flash of blue magic carried Red across the room. The magic was too weak to hold him for long, though, so he only ended up a few feet away from his brother. Edge scrambled to his feet, eyelights blazing. He was hunched, and he presented his uninjured side to Red, guarding his other side. “Asgore’s horns,” he said, panting, “I didn’t think it meant that much to you.” He reached into his pocket and flung the collar to Red. Despite the way he was shaking, Edge smirked. “If I’d known that was all I had to do to get you to put up a proper fight, I’d have done it sooner.”

Red clutched the collar, horror slowly overtaking his expression as he studied his brother. “it ain’t about the collar, boss.” His voice cracked, and Paps went stiff.

“What?” Edge asked, a thread of mockery in his voice, “You weren’t actually trying to dust me, were you? If so, I have to say I’m disappointed but not surprised. It is just like you to leave a job half-finished.” Red blinked, then started laughing. Paps’ soul went cold, and he took a step closer. His concerns were validated when Red’s laughter dissolved into hysterical sobs. Edge dropped out of his fighting stance. “Oh,” was all he said.

Having had more than enough of this, Paps swept toward Red and turned Edge’s soul blue with a gesture. He forced the latter back, while he ushered the former up the stairs. “come on, kiddo,” he said gently, “let’s go.”

“Red!” Edge said, sounding oddly out of breath. “Where are you taking him?!” He struggled against the blue magic, but Paps held him steady until he had Red safely ensconced in his room, with the door locked. He half-expected Edge to come bursting through this door too—and may the stars have mercy on him if he did, because Paps sure as hell wouldn’t—but Edge didn’t appear.

“its okay, kid,” Paps said, pulling the smaller monster into a hug, “you’re fine. did he hurt you?”

Red didn’t seem to hear. “i-it’s my fault,” he said between hiccupping sobs, “he’s halfway to dust, an-an’ it’s _my_ fault!”

“shh,” Paps said, a soothing hand petting the other’s skull. “nah, kid, he’ll be fine. i can’t imagine a little wrestling match will finish him off. take it easy. you’re fine. everything’s going to be fine.”

Red shook his head, still sobbing. “you don’t understand!” he said raggedly, “…undyne…what she did…it’s my fault. i-i fell asleep at m-my post. an’ _undyne_ saw. she was going to-going to—“ He shuddered, but pressed on, “boss stopped her, but she was too-too far gone by then. her-her LV got to ‘er. th-they fought, ‘n boss lost. i only just barely g-got ‘im out of there before she-she—“

Red gripped him hard and looked up at him, tears streaming down his face. “i almost saw my baby brother get dusted, ‘n its _my fault_ , paps. i’m supposed to pro-protect ‘im, but he almost died because a’ me.” The smaller monster broke down completely at that point, burying his face in Pap’s hoodie and clutching at him tightly.

Absently, Paps continued to pet Red’s skull and hold him securely, offering what comfort he could. Still, his eyes were wide with that unexpected revelation. He had no idea what to say other than the same meaningless platitudes he’d already tried. Red calmed down slowly but steadily. Finally, he pulled away and dusted himself off, straightening his clothes and unmistakably putting on a tough front. His stance and posture changed until he looked dangerous, a cruel edge to his smirk. Paps hadn’t seen him like this since his first few visits to Underswap.

“so, uh…thanks,” he said gruffly, as if it didn’t come to him naturally, “tell blue that imma hafta skip breakfast. boss’ll get impatient if i don’ get moving soon.”

Paps raised a brow-bone. “you’re not seriously going to sneak out, are you? you know how blue feels about that.”

Squirming, Red rubbed the back of his neck. Then with a sigh, he shrugged. “guess not. boss’d probably blow a fuse, and i’d have the blueberry on my ass too. i really do need ta get goin’, though.”

They made their way downstairs, and Red paused at the top of the stairs for a moment. It was easy enough to see why. Blue was seated on the couch, his legs crossed under him and a pillow on his lap. Edge was stretched out on the couch as well, his head cushioned by the pillow. Blue had his hands on the bigger monster’s shoulders, unmistakably restraining him. Paps couldn’t help but grin, particularly when he noticed how unhappy Edge looked. His hands were clenched, and his gaze was fixed, his breathing unsteady. Ooh, boy, did he look pissed.

Blue either didn’t notice or was politely ignoring the other monster’s rage. He kept up a steady stream of happy chatter, not leaving Edge any room to speak or think. Paps smirked; his brother was so cool, keeping Edge distracted while he took care of Red. Blue’s methods probably wouldn’t have been half as effective if Edge wasn’t down to less than a quarter of his full HP, but as it was, Blue seemed to have him well in hand.

When Edge growled on seeing Paps, he made as if to get up, but Blue gripped his shoulders firmly—much, much stronger than he looked—and gently chastised, “Now, now, Edge. You stay here. You’re injured and you need to rest, or you won’t get better. No more fighting!”

“Are you trying to order me around, pipsqueak?”

“No,” Blue said, though that was exactly what he was doing, “I just want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself!”

Edge growled, but stopped when Red came over. The small skeleton rubbed the back of his head and looked away. “so, uh, i’m heading over to our universe, boss. sorry, blue—i can’t stay fer breakfast.” He glanced at them and smirked. “you’ll take care of boss for me, though, right, kid?”

Edge glared at him. “…Red…” he growled, warning the other skeleton.

“i mean, he looks pretty cozy there.”

“Red, I swear on the stars….”

“ya know what’ll really help?” Red asked, a malicious smirk gracing his features.

“You are dead if you finish that, runt.”

“a hug.”

“SANS!” Edge snapped and snatched at the collar of Red’s shirt. He pulled his brother down to socket level and glared at him. Then, before either Blue or Paps could react, he said, sharply, leaving no room for argument, “Undyne was bound to snap sooner or later. It could have been anything that set her off. This isn’t your fault.” He waited until Red offered a hesitant nod. Then he released his brother and ordered, “Now get the fuck out of here, and do your damn job.”

Hesitantly, Red smiled. “you got it, boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : ) Let me know what you think!


	3. That's not how you're supposed to eat a burrito

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which breakfast is (mostly) eaten and (adorable) puzzles are begun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for disordered eating.
> 
> ( _italics_ ) = memories/flashbacks

Blue called in sick again, no matter how vehemently Edge insisted that he didn’t need the little pissant to babysit him. “Don’t be ridiculous~!” the pipsqueak—stars, he was even smaller than Red!—had proclaimed, “I, the Magnificent S—er, Blue, will be here to make sure you’re healing properly!” Edge just stared up at him, trying to decide between laughing, screaming, or crying. They’d been going back and forth for the last ten minutes, and he was making absolutely no progress. He didn’t think he could meet someone even half as stubborn as himself, but Blue was definitely wearing him down.

Worse, his doppleganger was seated at the dining room table, watching the entire exchange and looking entirely too smug. The bastard was enjoying this. Edge—and he was not going to forgive Rus’s Sans for giving him that stupid nickname, since he suspected the lazy-asses were just waiting to start breaking out the puns—finally decided just to growl at the smaller skeleton.

To his shock, that earned him a hug, though it was bit more like being strangled, since he was still mostly laying down and Blue had decided to wrap his arms around Edge’s neck and shoulders to spare his ribs. “ _Hrk!_ ” He raised a hand to push the other monster off, but he caught Paps’ eye and slowly lowered his hand.

He didn’t understand Paps’ motivation for making such a stupid deal, but the terms were clear, and Edge would abide by them. For Red’s sake, if not his own; as injured as he was, he fully knew he couldn’t defend either of them right now. If allowing the pipsqueak to prod at him was the price of safety and his hosts’ continued good will, then he’d pay it. Honestly, it could have been worse—for a few minutes he’d been certain that it would be worse.

( _“how ‘bout you go fuck yourself, edge.” Spoken so flatly that it didn’t sound like an insult. It sounded like an order. And wouldn’t that just fit his duplicate’s stupid sense of humor? ‘go fuck yourself, edge’. How convenient—with these alternate universes, he very well could.)_

_(“yeah. sure. now.” Feeling sick, feeling angry and humiliated, he dropped to his knees under the other skeleton’s impatient glare and waited. What choice did he have? He was too hurt to fight, so drained of magic he could barely summon a single bone attack. If this was the price, he would pay it. He could do this. He’d certainly been on the wrong end of worse bargains. At least this wouldn’t raise his LV, wouldn’t stain his soul. Yes. He could do this.)_

He forced himself to go completely still in Blue’s grip. Taking that as consent, Blue squeezed harder. “Don’t worry, Edge,” the little skeleton said, “We’ll make sure you get better soon. Right, Papy~?”

“yep. definitely a top priority for me.”

Edge rolled his eyes, but Blue apparently couldn’t detect his brother’s sarcasm. “See?” Finally, he released the battered skeleton. “I bet you’re hungry!” He was not. Considering how low his magic reserves were, he probably should have been, but his soul was so unsettled the thought of food made him ill.

“I don’t need—“

“Just stay right here, and I’ll go make you a burrito!” And Blue was gone before he could get another word out, bounding into the kitchen like a hyperactive child.

“it’s best not to fight him,” Paps advised, “he’ll get his way in the end.” He took a drink from the mug.

Edge narrowed his eyes. “Is there any actual coffee in there or is it all honey?”

Smirking, Paps turned the mug upside down briefly. Honey, then. “why? you hoping i’ll share?”

Edge’s features twisted into a disgusted moue. “Ugh. No.” On the (very) rare occasions that he drank, he preferred sriracha. Honey was so sweet it was sickening.

Blue re-appeared, carrying a plate. He bounced up to Edge and pushed the plate into his hands. “Here you go!” he declared happily, beaming at him. Edge looked at the plate, trying to ignore the way his soul pulsed uncomfortably. Stars, he could not afford this right now. Blue squirmed, watching him. Apparently deciding that the apprehensive look on Edge’s face was due to unfamiliarity with the dish, Blue said, “It’s a breakfast burrito.”

His phalanges twitched. He couldn’t eat this. Not right now. But he had to. Blue and Paps were both watching, and there was no way in hell that he was revealing such a glaring weakness to them. Besides, he really did need to eat to replenish his HP as well as his magic reserves. So, he’d just…improvise a little. Delicately, he started to unwrap the burrito. “Uh…you’re supposed to—“ Edge glared at Blue until sweat droplets appeared on the small skeleton’s brow. “Um. Nevermind,” the pipsqueak said, “You eat it however you want. I’ll go get you a fork.”

Blue walked away, lacking the usual bounce in his step. Edge looked down at the mess of egg and cheese and sausage, feeling his soul pulse with anxiety. His hands twitched, but really, this was a good thing. He could work with this. As soon as Blue offered, he snatched the fork from his hand and started to sort the eggs from the sausage. The cheese was pretty much melted into the eggs, but they were similarly colored, so that was fine. He made neat piles on his plate, and folded the tortilla into a perfect cone. Okay. That was better. His soul wasn’t pulsing as rapidly, now. He could probably manage a few bites, at least.

Only when he looked up did he realize that the other two skeletons were gaping at him, sockets wide. “What?!” he snarled, even though he very well knew why they were staring.

“nothing. just enjoying the peace of morning,” Paps deadpanned, “nothing odd going on at all.”

“Papy!” Blue scolded, “Be _nice_!” He turned a megawatt smile on Edge. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” He flounced away. Asgore’s horns, why couldn’t the little blue runt just _walk_ like a normal monster?

Edge shook off his irritation and tentatively took a bite of eggs. He repressed a shiver as the healing magic rushed through him. It barely made a dent in his HP deficit, but it was a good deal more soothing than the almost brutally healthful foods of his universe. It was like the difference between a kiss on the cheek and a slap in the face.

He ate slowly, unable to keep himself from glancing up at Paps and Blue. Waiting for them to reveal what was behind the nice façade they maintained. Apparently they were content to let him wait a bit longer. He finished eating, surprised to realize he’d actually managed to eat more than he’d expected. He stood to wash the plate, and suppressed a groan.

Every nerve ending screamed at him—which was pretty impressive, considering he didn’t actually have proper nerves. Stars, Red had definitely managed to re-open a few breaks. Edge was actually rather proud of his older brother; he’d have to compliment the runt when he wasn’t so jumpy. Edge still couldn’t believe that he’d managed to misread him so badly this morning.

 _He said he was S and R_ , Edge thought, trying to cover guilt with indignation. That’s why they’d developed their codes, so that they could communicate their status even in situations when they couldn’t speak plainly. S and R, or ‘sunshine and rainbows’, meant that Red was in a good place mentally and didn’t require any special handling. Nevertheless, Edge should have known better. He was supposed to know better; he should have been watching more closely, looking for the subtle clues to his mental state that Red couldn’t suppress. Being distracted by his own state wasn’t an excuse. At least, not an acceptable one.

Really, though, he should have known better than to try and take Red’s collar. It might have taken a while to convince him of its usefulness, but since then, it had become like a security blanket to him. Except it actually did keep him safe. Most of the time. It marked him as belonging to the Great and Terrible Papyrus—Undyne’s right hand and a considerable threat in his own right. It meant Red had value to the younger, but stronger, skeleton. No one would dare to interfere with him, knowing that.

Before Edge’s humiliation yesterday, at least. Without Undyne and the rest of the guard behind him, Edge was, realistically, only one skeleton, and a gravely wounded one at that. Now, the collar just made Red a target for anyone looking to strike back at Edge or Red himself. Neither of them lacked for enemies. Edge wouldn’t have sent the smaller skeleton if it wasn’t important. If anything happened to him—

(H E ‘ D  B U R N  I T  A L L  D O W N.)

—but nothing would happen. Red would be fine. He had his shortcuts, and he knew how to hide when necessary.

Blue called him back to the present by rushing to his side, fluttering like a nervous hummingbird. “You should rest, Edge; I can get the dishes.”

Edge glanced down at the plate and fork. He wanted to do it himself. Cleaning, putting things in order, helped him organize his thoughts and settled his soul when he was feeling anxious. However, he had to admit, at least to himself, that his ribcage ached with every breath, and he was tired. It had been a long time since he’d been this badly hurt, and he was exhausted in both body and soul. It would be easier to just….

He shook that away. He _hated_ being low in HoPe. It made his soul twitch in sympathy for Red. If the runt felt like this all the time, it was really no wonder he needed extra motivation—i.e. a good kick in the ass—just to stay awake.

“I can do it,” he said stiffly, trying to walk around the pipsqueak. Blue just shifted to block his way. Edge raised a brow-bone. Were they really going to do this? He tried to step around Blue’s other side, and the smaller skeleton shifted again, still beaming at him. Apparently so. Edge sighed, blocking out Blue’s chatter. Bracing himself, knowing this was going to hurt but wanting to make a point, he picked the other skeleton up by his collar and set him to the side. “I said I can do it,” he growled.

Paps’ eye was glowing, and Edge could feel his sins crawling on his back. _Tch. Shows what he knows_. Edge was very much aware of his sins. All of them. All the time. He didn’t need to feel them crawling on his back to be reminded. The sensation wasn’t so much disconcerting as it was annoying. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said over his shoulder, “He’s fine. I didn’t jump all over you for manhandling my brother.”

“w h a t ? !”

Edge paused, brow-bone raised. Stars, his ribs really did hurt, though he resisted the urge to lean against the wall or the doorframe. Really, though, just how far was Paps’ head lodged up his ass? “You’re lucky he hasn’t snapped at you yet,” he warned the other Papyrus, stalled by his expression. He wasn’t actually aware that his face could form that strange combination of fury, confusion, and hurt.

“i do not manhandle red.”

“Oh, really? So, who was it shoving him up the stairs this morning? Slim? Or maybe Rus stole one of your hoodies?” Paps looked so flabbergasted it was actually rather funny. Edge shook his head, smirking. “Just watch your fingers. The runt bites when he’s pissed off, and those teeth are not for show.” He held up an arm, showcasing the evenly spaced divots that marked his ulna. The scar was old, but it was still obviously a bite mark.

“Language!” Blue scolded, though he was uncomfortably contemplating the mark. It looked like he couldn’t quite decide what to make of it or of Edge.

“I didn’t swear,” Edge protested.

Blue squirmed, eyes on the ground. “…It’s vulgar.”

Edge massaged the strip of bone between his eyes and muttered under his breath as he moved into the kitchen. “…wouldn’t last five seconds in a Fell ‘verse….” He stopped in his tracks when he saw how low the sink was set. _Stars-damned ‘Swap verses…._ This was going to hurt, but he’d already come this far. Bracing himself, he bent to wash the dishes, but his ribs _screamed_ at him. Sweat broke out on his skull, and he gripped the edges of the sink, breathing through his teeth as he rode out the pain. Okay, this may have been a mistake.

“…are you okay?” a surprisingly soft voice asked. Blue almost sounded like Red when he spoke that quietly.

“Fine!” His breathing and posture—everything—revealed the lie, but what was he supposed to do? Admit weakness? Not likely. The Great and Terrible Papyrus was not weak!

…even if he didn’t feel so great at the moment. He did feel pretty terrible, though.

Blue approached cautiously, proving he was vastly more intelligent than his brother. “Um, here,” he said, setting a chair down behind Edge. The taller skeleton stared at him, waiting for the trick, the trap. He couldn’t see it, but that didn’t mean anything. In his experience, any display of weakness was immediately taken advantage of.

Nevertheless, it was getting to the point where he would have to trust this small gesture, at least. His knees were shaking so badly it was causing his bones to rattle. Stars this was humiliating. Bracing himself for whatever might come next, he sat heavily and allowed Blue to take the plate and fork from him. Blue glanced back at him as he moved to the sink, but nothing more. So, he wasn’t going to make a move on Edge yet.

His fingers curled into fists, frustrated and angry with his own limitations. Even assuming Red was right and these two skeletons weren’t going to press their advantage—Paps’ weird deal aside—then how could he hope to achieve his goals if he was this weak? He needed to be stronger. He needed—

“—to do?” Blue asked, standing in front of him.

Edge looked down at him. “What?”

“I asked what you wanted to do today,” Blue said patiently, practically bouncing with excitement. Acting as if he hadn’t just found Edge clinging to the sink to keep his knees from giving out. Acting as if he _couldn’t_ just force Edge to do whatever the little pipsqueak wanted. Edge was weak right now, and Blue was a lot stronger than he looked.

Then, with Edge still staring at him incredulously, Blue proceeded to list all the things he liked to do when he was sick. Asgore’s horns, it was hard to follow Blue’s excited babble. What did he _want_ to do? Anything other than sit on his ass and wait for his bones to knit back together. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be an option. “—maybe a puzzle, or—“

“Puzzle,” he interrupted, more because he wanted Blue to shut up than anything else.

“Great!” he said, beaming, “I’ll go pick one out!” He bounded away, feet slapping the ground loudly. Edge just shook his head and closed his sockets, enjoying the brief peace.

Emphasis on brief. “Asgore’s flowers, what do you want, Swapshit?”

His duplicate stood in front of him, sipping ‘coffee’. “not much. just enjoying your suffering.”

“Of course you are.” Why was this version of himself so insufferable? He liked Rus well enough. It was hard not to; he was basically a larger version of Blue. Even Slim, from Swapfell, was enough like Red that Edge could find him pitiable if nothing else, even if he was too quiet to get a good read on. Also, no one should have to put up with Razz, not even his brother. Paps, however, pushed all the wrong buttons in all the wrong ways. “What did you say to the runt this morning?”

“who?”

“My brother, moron.”

“i don’t know why we bothered coming up with nicknames for you and Red; do you guys ever even use your real names?”

( _“papyrus!” Worried eyelights, too young for the kind of concern they displayed. “ya can’t run off like that, paps. sumthin’ mighta happened to ya, an’ then what would i do, huh?”_

_“Sans! I met a flower! He’s nice, but he’s really shy.” A monster, even a young one, with that much joy and hope obvious in his voice did not belong in Underfell._

_“that’s nice, bro, but ya can’t just—“ A sigh. “c’mon, then. i promised ya nice cream, didn’t i?”)_

Edge ignored the memory. How long ago had that been? Fifteen years? No, more than that. Seventeen? “You going to start calling me ‘boss’, then, Swapshit?”

“you wish, fuckfell.”

“Not especially.” They were getting off topic. “What’d you say to him?”

Paps looked away, thumbing his lighter. “i didn’t really say anything. he did most of the talking.”

Edge folded his arms. “The runt’s got a big mouth. Don’t take what he says at face value.”

“…so you weren’t protecting him from undyne when you got the shit kicked out of you?”

Edge scoffed. “That is a gross oversimplification, and he very well knows it.”

“so what happened?”

“Why does it matter?” he snapped, a low growl underscoring his words.

“i think it matters a lot if you got beat up protecting your bro rather than because you were, i don’t know, fighting for the hell of it.”

Edge felt a wave of cold spread outward from his soul and knew his eyelights had gone out. This jackass thought he _enjoyed_ the things he was forced by circumstance to do? It had been a long time since he’d felt so…hurt. “Funny thing,” he said coolly, “I don’t actually give a shit what you think of me.”

Paps’ sockets widened marginally before narrowing. “you—“

Blue bounded into the room, waving a pair of puzzle boxes over his head. “I couldn’t decide which one, so I—“ The small skeleton froze, looking between them. Edge almost laughed when a suspicious look crossed his features. “What happened?”

“nothing, bro. we were just talking.”

Blue crossed his arms, sockets narrowed. “You were being rude to our guest, weren’t you?”

“uh.” Paps smiled broadly. “’course not, bro. you know i wouldn’t do that!” He leaned down and slung an arm over Edge’s shoulders, causing the scarred skeleton to freeze up. Instinctively, he braced himself for pain, waiting for sharp claws to dig into his bones, to slip between them to tease and tear at the magic holding him together. He knew it was coming. “we’re just getting to know each other better.” He squeezed, and Edge almost sighed in relief—there was the pain he’d been waiting for, even if it was more of a dull ache than a sharp stab. “right, pal?”

Edge glared at him. He’d agreed to let Paps touch him with impunity, not lie to Blue for him. “Yes,” he said, “Mostly I’m learning what an asshat your brother is.”

Blue frowned. “Papyrus.” Both looked at him, caught by surprise at his tone. “Paps,” he corrected himself, “he’s hurt, and we have a duty to show our Fell counterparts that things don’t have to be like they are in their universes. If you can’t be nice, then you can leave.”

Stars above, he loved Blue—just for putting _that_ expression on Paps’ face. Before he could enjoy it too much, though, he soon found himself the focus of Blue’s wrath. He tensed up, startled by the sudden sense of shame he felt creeping up his spine. How was he doing that? “And you—how many times do I have to remind you to watch your language?”

The small monster stared at him expectantly. Edge knew he was supposed to say or do something, but he didn’t know what. “Uh…sorry?” he tried.

Blue beamed at him. “It’s okay—just try not to do it again, alright?” …that was all it took? Just a simple ‘sorry’ and Blue let it go? Huh. That was…different.

The pipsqueak held up two puzzle boxes. “Now, which one would you like to do first?” Edge eyed the two cutesy puzzles, trying not to wince. Asgore’s horns, were those kittens in flowerpots? Was that a damn unicorn? _At least Red’s not here. He’d never let me live this down._ He picked one at random. “Great! We can do the other one after!” Then, after depositing the puzzles on the table, Blue darted forward and—

—picked up Edge, chair and all, and carried him out to the dining room table? Edge’s soul buzzed, nervous and surprised…but also a little impressed. The little skeleton was _strong_. He set the chair down surprisingly gently, not so much as jostling his cargo, then dashed away again. He darted about, gathering a puzzle board and a pair of cups and a pitcher of what appeared to be spider cider. This Edge eyed warily, familiar with the spider cider from his own universe. Somehow, though, he doubted that Blue was the type to casually offer narcotics to a guest—especially not a drug that was also rumored to be an aphrodisiac.

Edge watched Blue buzz about, both fascinated and confused. He jumped more than a little when a warm, heavy blanket was draped over his shoulders and a pillow was gently slipped between his spine and the chair back. “Comfy?” Blue asked, as if he was actually concerned for Edge’s comfort.

For several seconds, he just stared at Blue, completely thrown off. How was he even supposed to answer that? He wasn’t used to this sort of behavior. It made his soul pulse with warmth…but also anxiety. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to do in this situation. He always avoided other monsters when he was injured. On those rare occasions that he was forced to interact, it had never ended well for him. Sometimes, an ally would offer aid, but always, _always_ at a price. This, however, was something different. Blue didn’t seem to resent him, didn’t perpetually remind him that there was a debt to pay.

( _“Ahuhuhu. Remember, I_ own _you, dearie~. If you forget again, you’ll find that I have other uses for you—uses that don’t require you to keep your hands.”)_

Edge swallowed, trying not to stare at Blue like he’d grown a second head. “Fine,” he said gruffly, huddling into the blanket. “I’m…fine.” He looked away, gaze settling on the puzzle box. He reached for it like a lifeline, suddenly not caring about the stupidly cutesy scene on the front. Carefully, he emptied the box onto the table and started sorting the pieces by color, setting the edges aside to be put together first. Immediately, his soul eased a fraction. There was something relaxing about this—pulling order out of chaos, putting pieces back together, remaking what had been unmade.

Across the room, Paps settled on the couch to watch them. “Papy, don’t you want to join us?” Blue asked as he scooted his chair closer to Edge. The scarred skeleton forced himself not to flinch at the proximity. If Blue wanted to hurt him, he’d already had plenty of opportunity to do so. He probably wasn’t going to start right now.

“nah, bro. i’ll just lay down over here and let you two puzzle it out.”

Blue froze to glare at Paps, while Edge groaned aloud. “Blue, control your brother, or you’re not going to have one for much longer.”

“Why?” Blue asked, deadpan, “Do you know where we can trade him in?”

He was so surprised that he actually chuckled at that. It was apparently enough to silence Paps as well, because he’d gone suddenly quiet. Blue hopped up on his chair to make up for his shorter limbs and started up his happy babble again. Edge felt something like a smile trying to reach his features, and he repressed it. He couldn’t allow himself to get used to this. After all, when his wounds were healed, he had to go back to Underfell and deal with whatever mess was waiting for him there.

For now, though, this was…nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that, while both Edge and Red have their issues, I am not attempting to portray any specific mental illnesses or disorders. Honestly, I don't think I have the skill to pull that off. If you think I've mishandled anything, please let me know so I can at least attempt to fix it. I've never really written anything like this before, and would appreciate the feedback.


	4. Is it really cheating if you can still lose?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge teaches Blue a game, and Paps d o e s n o t a p p r o v e

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing. This is my first fanfic, and the response has been incredible. Hope you enjoy, my beauties~.

Holy fucking stars, hearing Edge laugh made his soul first freeze up, then start producing an uncomfortable heat. _no_ , he ordered it, _no, absolutely not. not_ him _._ Unfortunately, his soul didn’t appear to be listening. Edge’s laugh was nothing like Rus’s happy ‘Nyeh heh heh!’ or Blue’s ‘Mwah hah hah!’. It was dark and rich, and pitched low enough that something in his soul twisted pleasantly when he heard it. Oh, he was _so_ screwed. And not in the fun way.

Why was this happening? Why did the edgelord have to put those thoughts in his head? This was _absolutely_ not okay. Worse, he couldn’t just walk away; leaving Edge alone with Blue was not an option. He’d just…have to ignore his—ugh— _attraction_ to the other skeleton. From his place on the couch, he eyed the pair of them. He flicked on the TV so as to make it less obvious that he was keeping watch. Blue would get offended and insist that he didn’t need his brother to look after him. Best to just avoid that conversation altogether.

Edge visibly flinched when Napsttaton’s saccharine music started up. Paps smirked at him, causing the other skeleton to scowl before he turned back to the puzzle. It was weird, watching the pair of them. Edge kept shooting glances at Blue, like he was waiting for something. Something he wasn’t especially looking forward to either, judging by his expression. Blue seemed completely oblivious and kept up a steady stream of chatter. In other circumstances, Paps would have been lulled to sleep by the hypnotic cadence of his brother’s monologue. As it was, his Fell counterpart held his attention.

Paps sipped his honey contemplatively, noticing that as time passed, Edge, well, didn’t seem so on-edge anymore. His features softened marginally, and his shoulders lost their stiffness, though he retained his perfect posture. While Paps couldn’t understand the appeal of the puzzle, to his surprise, it didn’t appear as if Edge was just humoring Blue. He almost seemed to be having fun—which was, frankly, a bizarre concept. Paps hadn’t thought his alternate self was capable of enjoying himself unless someone was bleeding. Sure enough, though, his eyelights were bright and engaged, focused on their task. Was that…a smile?

(No, not exactly, but it was close.)

 _damn, he’s actually kind of cute like that._ He ignored that thought, ignored the sudden pulse of warmth emanating from his soul. Until he remembered that Edge would _hate_ being called cute. Smirking subtly, Paps fished out his phone and took a picture. Yep. That was fucking adorable. It should make good blackmail material.

“Your Alphys is guard captain?” Edge asked, and Paps almost jumped. It was the first thing he’d said in a long time; previously, Blue had so thoroughly dominated the conversation it couldn’t even be properly called that. The stars in Blue’s eyes briefly swelled, before he replied. If the other monster had been anyone besides Edge, Paps would have grinned; watching his brother draw people out of their shells was always amazing.

Blue slowed his stream of words enough to give Edge places to contribute to the conversation, without making it awkward if he decided to keep quiet. “So is your Undyne…the royal scientist?” Edge asked after Blue spent a few minutes almost literally singing Alphys’ praises.

“Uh-huh,” Blue said, his hand brushing Edge’s when they both reached for the same puzzle piece. Edge’s fingers twitched, but he didn’t jerk away. “They’re so _cute_ together!” he exclaimed, “I wish they would start dating already! Everyone knows they’re made for each other—but Undyne’s too shy—“ Edge smirked at that, shaking his head slightly. “—and Alphys can be so clueless about certain things! Napsttaton keeps trying to find ways to get them together, but nothing’s worked so far.”

“Has he tried locking them in a closet?” Paps raised a brow-bone, watching Edge re-adjust himself so he could use both hands to work on the puzzle without dislodging his blanket. That almost-smile clung stubbornly to his features, and there was an amused lilt to his speech. Oh, stars, the bastard was actually attempting to have a friendly conversation. _maybe i_ should _check to make sure the universe isn’t imploding_.

“Yeah. No go. Undyne got a nosebleed so bad she passed out.” Edge snorted, shaking his head. Still almost-smiling. Paps swallowed a mouthful of honey quickly and looked away. _shit._ It was the blanket, he decided. The way Edge was bundled in it was too damn cute, and the way it would slip and reveal flashes of clavicle and sternum was too damn sexy. Earlier, before Blue had draped the blanket over him, Edge’s upper body had been covered only by his bandages—his undershirt was completely shredded, and Red hadn’t exactly been concerned with bringing a spare change of clothes—but ‘injured skeleton’ was not sexy. This, though…oh, stars, it was hitting Paps just right in all the wrong places.

Did Edge even realize…? No. No, he did not. There wasn’t a trace of the smug arrogance Paps would have seen if Edge knew how hot he looked at that moment. That only made it worse. He took another gulp of honey.

“What about inviting them over for dinner—“ Edge began.

“—and making an excuse to leave, thereby leaving them to enjoy a romantic dinner alone? Yeah. He’s already tried that; it didn’t work. They just ditched to go watch anime,” Blue said, sounding just as disappointed as he had that night.

“I was actually going to say spiking their drinks with spider cider, but I suppose that was more of a Fell-verse tactic.” Blue eyed his cup of spider cider curiously. Paps too was a little puzzled. Edge just shook his head. “Never mind. Long story short, Mettaton ended up with a hung-over mad scientist and a very frustrated fish monster. Training was interesting that day.”

“So, your Mettaton is like our Napsttaton?”

“Give or take a few extra limbs…and a thirst for blood. Otherwise, yes. They’re very similar.”

“So, what’s Underfell like?” Blue asked, “Your Mettaton doesn’t sound so bad, if he wants his friends to be happy together, and if your Alphys and Undyne secretly love each other just as much as our Alphys and Undyne, then it can’t be too terrible.” Paps almost choked on his honey, and Edge’s armor went back up almost immediately.

Haltingly, he said, “Underfell is…not a nice place, Blue. Whatever the superficial similarities.”

“it’s a complete hell-hole,” Paps burst out, appalled that Edge would sugar-coat it like that. He just ignored Blue’s outraged “Papy!”

The scarred skeleton turned to him, brow-bones raised. “What would you know about it? You’ve never even been there.”

“red’s told me enough.”

Edge’s sockets narrowed. “What, exactly, has the runt told you?”

Paps opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, realizing that Red had never really _told_ him much of anything. It wasn’t so much what the smaller monster said as how he looked and acted, the bruises and scars that marked him. “enough,” he finally said, unwilling to admit that he didn’t actually know much about Underfell…or its residents. Present company included.

“I told you not to take his word at face value. He has a somewhat…skewed perception of things.” The last few words were soaked with bitterness, and they had the flavor of an old argument.

Paps eyed him, a little annoyed. “what do you mean by that?” he asked, both curious and a little offended on Red’s behalf.

“Nothing that concerns a Tale-verse monster,” Edge snapped. Seeing that things were not going well, Blue took over the conversation once again, gently steering it away from Underfell and Red and back to Underswap. The damage was done, though; Edge had lost his almost-smile, and his posture was unyielding once more. Nevertheless, he was obviously still listening. Paps also saw that, while one of Edge’s hands had retreated so that he could use it to hold the blanket protectively closed, he still kept one hand free so he could continue fitting pieces into the puzzle.

It wasn’t until Blue mentioned training with Alphys to become part of the royal guard that Edge showed any signs of re-engaging with the conversation. His walls were back up, though, and he wasn’t attempting to be friendly anymore. His movements had become stiff, and he looked at Blue with an odd expression. Paps immediately prepared to intervene; if the perpetually angry version of himself tried to crush his little brother’s dreams, so help him…. “Why would you want to join the guard?” That wasn’t really the question he’d been expecting.

Both Blue and Paps stared at him. “You are a guardsman, aren’t you?” Blue asked.

Almost simultaneously, Paps asked, “you do remember what your job is, right? that crack in your skull didn’t get any bigger, did it?”

Edge glared at him. It was, really, his neutral expression—like Sans’ perma-smile. “Yes,” he bit out, “I remember my job. I asked Blue why _he_ wanted to be part of the guard. I somehow doubt it’s for the same reason I joined.”

“Why do you think that?”

For a moment, it didn’t look like Edge would answer, then he said, “Because you approached your Alphys about joining. That’s not what happened in my universe.”

Blue was completely ignoring the puzzle now, instead focused on Edge. His scrutiny seemed to make the scarred skeleton uncomfortable. He leaned away, posture tense and expression closed off. “What happened in your universe?” Blue asked excitedly. Paps’ eyes narrowed. Blue was far too interested in Underfell and the skeleton that called it home.

“What’s it to you?” Edge growled. Paps’ hand curled into a fist. Did this guy want to have a bad time? No one spoke to his brother like that.

“hey, pal,” he said, “better drop the attitude.” Edge glanced his way, eyelights dim. Paps allowed his magic eye to flare, satisfied when Edge’s eyelights practically disappeared.

“We just want to get to know you better,” Blue said brightly, drawing Edge’s attention back to himself. “Red comes over all the time, but we don’t get to see you as often.”

Edge blinked, eyelights going dark before immediately blazing back to life. His head tilted slightly to one side as he scrutinized Blue. “You want. To get to know me.” He cast a skeptical eye Paps’ way. Paps offered his fakest smile and raised his mug in a sarcastic toast. Edge rolled his eyes before looking back to Blue. “I have a hard time believing that.”

“Why?” Blue asked.

Scoffing, Edge leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Check my stats. That’s all you should need to know.”

“surprisingly, edgelord, we can agree on that much,” Paps muttered.

“Papy!” Blue scolded, turning on his brother, “You know people are more than just their stats.”

“sometimes their stats tell you everything you need to know, little bro. trust me on this one.” Blue crossed his arms, staring down his brother.

“That’s not true,” Blue said, pouting. The stars had disappeared from his eyes and his arms were crossed, brow-bones furrowed. “Stats don’t tell you what a person likes or dislikes, what kind of friend they are, or-or _anything important_. They just tell you how strong they are, and even that isn’t always true.”

Blue was wrong. Of course a person couldn’t be boiled down to just their stats, but their stats were a good place to start. If they’d gained a lot of LOVE, then they weren’t worth the effort of getting to know further. Monsters like that only deserved a quick execution—and that only because Paps was a merciful Judge. That was his job, after all—when he wasn’t playing sentry for Alphys or selling hot cats, at least. There weren’t enough criminals in his Underground for his position as Judge to be a full-time gig. He hadn’t dusted Edge because Edge belonged to a different universe; not his jurisdiction, not his problem. Until, of course, the Fell monster made a move here, in this universe.

Blue saw the good in everyone, though. Even those that didn’t deserve a second check. Paps’ gaze slid to Edge, before he focused back on his brother and offered a self-deprecating grin. “yeah, bro,” he said, “i guess you’re right. what would a lazybones like me do without a cool guy like you to guide me?” So long as Paps was here, Blue wouldn’t ever have to know how wrong he was. The smaller monster could keep his innocence and his cheery outlook on the world; Paps would protect him from anything that threatened that.

Blue’s pupils flared into stars as he smiled at his brother. “Mweh heh heh! Probably bury yourself under a pile of socks~!”

Strangely, Edge’s sockets narrowed as he stared at Paps, then contempt turned his scowl into a sneer. When he turned back to Blue, though, the sneer was gone, replaced with something that would have been a smile if it wasn’t so aggressive. _how does someone smile aggressively?_ Paps wondered. Somehow, Edge managed it. “Would you like to play a game, Blue?” Edge asked.

Paps sat up, his brotherly instincts screaming at him. Blue didn’t even notice. Stars had appeared in his eyes again, and he was practically bouncing on the chair. “What kind of game!?”

“A card game. Do you have a deck?” Blue leapt from his chair and ran to get the deck of cards.

“Waitrighttherei’llberightback!” he yelled over his shoulder, apparently afraid the Fell monster was going to change his mind if Blue didn’t hurry back.

As soon as his brother was out of sight, Paps stood and marched over, mug of honey forgotten beside the couch. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, looming over Edge.

“Currently? I’m waiting for your brother to return with a deck of cards.” The smug bastard grinned at him, his sharpened teeth making the expression feral rather than friendly.

“that’s not what i mean, asshole.” He narrowed his sockets and hooked his fingers through Edge’s exposed clavicle, yanking on it. Edge hissed, and Paps knew that it hurt, but that was good. He wanted it to hurt. “what kind of ‘game’?” he snarled.

“So paranoid,” Edge mocked, even though his teeth were grit to fend off the pain, “What are you afraid of? Think I’m going to corrupt your _precious_ little brother?” The way he said ‘precious’ made Paps want to introduce the other skeleton to the business end of a gaster blaster.

His eyelights went out, and his soul buzzed angrily. He knew he was radiating menace and rage. “let’s get one thing straight, fuckfell. if you so much as—“

The Blue’s bedroom door closed and the sound of little skeletal feet running down the hallway sounded. “Careful,” Edge said, smirking, “we wouldn’t want your brother to see you like this. Better go back to the couch and lay down.”

He snarled wordlessly, allowing his phalanges to scrape unpleasantly against Edge’s bones as he released the other skeleton. By the time Blue appeared at the foot of the stairs, he was seated at the table across from Edge, mug of honey in hand. The two taller skeletons exchanged a look. _i’m watching you, fuckfell; one toe out of line, and you’re dust_. “I’ve got the deck!” Blue announced, setting it on the table between him and Edge. “How do you play?” His bones rattled as he practically vibrated with excitement.

Paps worked hard not to grind his teeth watching him. Blue looked thrilled to have the edgelord paying attention to him—offering to teach him a ‘game’. Paps could only imagine what sorts of games Edge was familiar with. _maybe later we can play a ‘game’,_ Paps thought angrily, becoming even angrier when he recognized the thread of heat that speared through his soul at that thought.

( _Edge glaring at him, hissing as Paps forced him to the floor and lifted his hips. Licking a long stripe up Edge’s sternum, finishing with a bite to his clavicle.)_

Nope. He was most definitely _not_ thinking about hate-fucking the edgelord. No. Nope. Not even a little.

 _stars,_ he thought, exasperated, _what the hell is wrong with me?_

“Ordinarily,” Edge said as he deftly shuffled the cards, “we’d play for gold, but I think playing for answers might be a little more interesting, since you’re so eager to ‘get to know me’. Besides—” He smirked. “—I’d feel at least a _little_ bad taking your gold. So, whoever wins each round can ask the other any question they’d like.”

Blue’s grin faltered a little. “What if I don’t want to answer?”

“We can pass if we think a question is too personal, but the winner gets to ask another question. The only rule is you cannot lie.”

Blue’s smile returned full-force. “Okay, that sounds like fun!”

“I’ll deal for now, but we can switch once you get the hang of it.” Quickly, Edge explained the rules as he dealt the pair of them a couple cards each. He did not offer to deal Paps in.

Paps blinked. “…blackjack,” he said flatly. “you’re playing…blackjack.”

Edge glanced at him, haughty self-assurance written in every line of his features. Particularly in that smirk. “What were you expecting?” he asked sardonically. “Card games aren’t exactly sinister, even in Underfell.”

“…you’re a dick.”

“Papy, don’t be vulgar! Edge, stop it; that’s a very rude gesture!” When the bigger skeletons had settled down, Blue eyed his cards. “Hit me!” he said after some thought.

With a smirk, Edge put down another card. Blue made a face and laid down his cards. “Bust, pipsqueak. First question’s mine. Why do you want to join the guard?”

“That’s easy—I want to help people.”

Blue won the next round. “Why did you join the guard?”

“Undyne gave me the choice between training under her or having weights tied to my legs and being thrown into the river. It wasn’t a hard decision.” Blue’s sockets went wide, the stars going out of his pupils. Even Paps gaped at him a little. How could he be so casual about that?

“Why—“

“Ah, ah. You have to earn your question first.”

They played at a rapid pace as Blue got the hang of the game, and they developed a quick back and forth, each of them able to ask questions every few rounds. “Why would Undyne threaten to throw you in the river?”

“Because she was tired of arresting me.”

Another round.

“Why’d she arrest you?”

“I was breaking the law.”

“No fair! That’s not what I meant!”

“Then ask better questions, pipsqueak. Ha! My turn~. Why does your Underground need a royal guard anyway? The way Red talks about this place, I wouldn’t think it was necessary.”

“Oh! To keep up morale,” Blue said brightly, “and make sure anyone that gets lost finds their way back home. And to help when the snow builds up too high, or when the river floods. Stuff like that.”

“…I see.” Edge sat back and dealt, an odd look in his eyes.

“Twenty-one!” said Blue, “So, what did Undyne arrest you for?”

“Pass.”

Blue pouted. “Edge~,” he started to protest, but Edge shook his head.

“You agreed to the rules beforehand; you can’t complain now if they don’t work in your favor.”

Blue sighed, but the stars came back to his eyes soon enough. “Fine…what do you like to do for fun?”

Paps stared down the other monster when Blue asked that, willing him to pass on that question too. There’s no way his idea of ‘fun’ was appropriate for innocent ears. “I bake,” Edge said easily, no trace of a lie. Paps blinked. That was…a little unexpected.

More rounds. More questions. There was no real pattern to Blue’s questions—he asked about anything and everything, really. And while it seemed that Edge never outright lied to the smaller skeleton, he was definitely evasive if he didn’t want to answer a question, and he made liberal use of the ‘pass’ rule. Paps noticed that there was a definite pattern to Edge’s questions, though. Some were rather innocuous, about things that Blue liked to do, favorite books, favorite anime, and the like, but interspersed throughout were questions about the guard and Blue’s training with Alphys. “How’d you start training with Alphys?”

“I stood outside her house and knocked on her door until she agreed to teach me.”

More rounds, more questions, then—“What kind of training do you do?”

“It’s super special, secret training; I don’t know if I can answer that.” Paps smirked when Edge frowned at that answer.

“Is that a pass or not?”

“Um, pass, I guess.”

“Then tell me this—what’s Alphys’ fighting style?” The fuck? What kind of question was that?

Blue paused. “I, um, I don’t really know? We haven’t gotten to that part of training yet. So…pass?”

“No, it’s fine. ‘I don’t know’ is technically an answer.” There was something in Edge’s expression after that question that put Paps on alert. Suddenly, he didn’t like this game very much. Coincidentally, at around that time, Edge started to win more often. In fact, Blue only rarely got a question in.

“How long have you been training with Alphys?”

“A couple years.”

Four rounds, and Blue didn’t win even once. “Has Alphys ever sat down and talked with you about being a guard?”

“Uh, not really. I think, maybe, I haven’t gotten far enough in my training yet.”

“Interesting,” Edge said, sockets narrow. Blue dealt, and Edge looked at his cards. “Hit me,” he said. Paps watched closely, trying to figure out how Edge was cheating, because he was obviously cheating. It wasn’t his deck, so the cards couldn’t be marked, and it didn’t seem like he was dealing crooked. In fact, he was just as likely to win if Blue was dealing. What was going on here?

Edge won the next few rounds. Then, finally— “Ha!” Blue said, laying both his cards, “Twenty-one!”

Edge smirked. “What’s your question?”

“Why do you keep winning?” Blue asked, and Edge chuckled. The low, rolling sound again caused Paps’ soul to pulse. Blue’s question, however, made him grin; of course his little bro would just come right out and ask.

“I’m counting cards.”

“You cheated!” Blue accused, sounding appalled and a little hurt.

“It’s not cheating—it’s playing strategically. Though, I wouldn’t use that excuse in Muffet’s parlor. It’s a good way to get your knees broken.”

“Stars!” Blue exclaimed, hands pressed against his teeth.

Edge leaned back, arms crossed. “I suppose we’re done playing, then.” The smug bastard looked _way_ too pleased with himself. “Now that you know I’ve got the advantage.”

Blue leaned forward, studying Edge. “Can you teach me?”

“no!” Paps said, glaring at Edge, “you are not teaching my brother how to cheat at cards.”

“But, Papy~! He said it’s not _really_ cheating.”

“It’s not,” Edge insisted, “You just use simple math to keep track of the changes in probability. It’s educated gambling; you’re still taking a risk.”

“call it what you want,” Paps said, glaring at him, “you’re not teaching my brother to cheat.”

“Your brother is an adult,” Edge said, something sharp in his tone, “and if he wants to learn, then I’m happy to teach him.”

“no, you won’t.”

“Papy, I want—“

“blue, i don’t want you learning _anything_ that edge has to teach.” Paps glared at Edge, absolutely refusing to budge on this. Edge looked like he was going to argue, so Paps decided it was time to play dirty. Blue might be innocent, but he most certainly wasn’t.

Under the table, he stretched out his foot until it hooked around Edge’s ankle. The injured skeleton when completely stiff, and he started to pull away, but Paps reached for the deck of cards. “i’ll _deal_ this time.” At the reminder, Edge immediately stilled. His eyelights briefly flared, then dimmed until Paps could barely see them. “let’s play something else. bro, you remember how to play _war_ , right?” He allowed his foot to trail up Edge’s leg. Edge raised a browbone, and his eyelights flickered back to life.

“Um, yeah,” Blue said uncertainly.

“i should warn you,” Paps said, eyeing Edge, “you’re not going to win this one.”

“We play this game in Underfell,” Edge replied, “I think you’re overestimating yourself.” Paps jumped a little when Edge’s other foot stroked the top of Paps’ free foot.

“bring it on, edgelord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, I do not play blackjack and have only the vaguest idea of how to count cards. Please excuse any inaccuracies.
> 
> Side note--counting cards is not technically illegal. Still, I wouldn't try it in a casino. (Or Muffet's parlor.)
> 
> Next chapter is from Edge's POV. Might be a few days, since I don't have this one pre-written, and I'm going out of town.


	5. No one wins when you play fifty-two pick-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blue finally loses his (almost infinite) patience with these assholes, and Paps and Edge argue about something that actually matters.
> 
> Mistakes are made.

Well, Edge certainly hadn’t been expecting _this_. When Paps had hooked his ankle, he’d expected him to grind down on the sensitive metatarsals or press his phalanges between the joints to scrape at the magic holding his foot together. In essence, he’d been anticipating pain. Honestly, this would have been pleasant, if it hadn’t been Paps across from him.

However, if Paps wanted to play this game, then Edge was more than willing. This was actually one of the few things that made sense to him since coming to this universe. In Underfell, sex was both a weapon and a tool. It could be used to put an upstart in their place or to claim dominance over another monster. Alternatively, it was used as a bargaining chip or offered up in willing submission to claim a stronger monster’s protection. He supposed it was also done recreationally, between monsters that trusted one another, but the pleasurable aspects had always seemed somewhat secondary to him. He rarely bothered to achieve orgasm with another monster—better to seek satisfaction in private, when he didn’t have to worry about being momentarily vulnerable.

More importantly, though, he knew exactly what Paps was doing—trying to establish dominance—and he knew exactly how to counter it. For the first time since Red had brought him here, he actually felt in control again, despite the little piece of himself screaming in protest. _Just like home_ , he thought sardonically. Smirking at Paps across the table, he pressed a phalange into the arch of Paps’ foot, gently stroking the metatarsals. So long as Paps played nice, he’d play nice too.

A phalange prodded his ankle joint, playing with the cartilage that cushioned the bones and sending pleasant sparks up his leg. He swallowed, his soul pulsing with warmth. Paps’ cheekbones were very lightly flushed, though; he wasn’t the only one feeling it. While Paps dealt the cards, Edge lightly touched his phalanges to Paps’ tarsals, using the tip of a phalange to trace the spaces between the bones. He moved slowly and methodically, exploring the boundaries of each tarsal.

Paps was glaring at him. “Uh…Papy?” Blue asked, looking between the pair with a puzzled expression.

“y-yeah, blue?” Edge smirked. Oh, yeah. Paps was definitely feeling it.

“You know that’s not how you’re supposed to deal, right?”

Paps stopped and looked down, realizing that he had laid the last three cards in front of Blue. “right. sorry, bro. let me just—“ Edge scraped a long line down his tibia, causing Paps to shudder. Okay. Maybe he wouldn’t play it _too_ nice. Where was the fun in that?

Paps’ eye flared and a spark of magic shot up his leg. Edge had to grip the table to keep from jumping to his feet. He narrowed his sockets. “Is this really the game you want to play?” he asked, pleased when his voice came out steady. Oh, Swapshit was just _begging_ for it now.

( _Paps on his back, features flushed orange—)_ No. This was only a game. A play for dominance. Neither of them actually wanted anything more.

Paps raised a brow. “you got a better suggestion, edgelord?” Blue frowned at the nickname, looking between them with brow-bones furrowed.

“You just seem a little distracted,” he said. He slipped the tip of a phalange between Paps’ tibia and fibula. Paps swallowed, visibly regretting his choice of clothing. Khaki shorts were not half as protective as Edge’s leather pants. Edge leaned forward, propping his chin on his folded hands. “I can think of more pleasant games,” he said suggestively, allowing his eyelights to dim to a smolder. Lightly, he traced the inner edge of each bone, following them up to the apex of his calf, just below the patella. Magic gathered around the tip of one phalange, heating the bone as he traced the kneecap. “Besides, have you looked at the clock? It’s almost lunchtime; do we have time for this?”

Paps had gone completely still at this point, no longer even attempting to retaliate. Edge raised a brow-bone. “Really, you should know better than to start something you can’t finish,” he said, releasing his hold on the magic. Paps lost his grip on the cards as Edge’s magic sparked over his leg. The cards scattered, most of them falling to the ground. “Hmm,” Edge said, while Paps glared at him, “Fifty-two pickup isn’t what I would have suggested as an alternative, but if that’s how you want to play—“ He picked up the cards Paps had already dealt him and flung them into the air.

Paps glared at him. “you—“

“That is _enough_!” Blue said, standing on the seat of his chair so that he was, briefly, taller than the other skeletons. “I am very disappointed in both of you.” His arms were crossed as he looked between the two of them. “Papy, I know you can do better than this. You aren’t even _trying_ to be nice. Edge, I realize you’re hurt, and I know it’s probably scary—“

He stiffened, indignant. “I am not _scared_!”

“—being in a new place, but you don’t have to be so—“ Blue floundered, searching for the word he wanted. “—so _edgy_ all the time. Now, I’m going to go make lunch. While I’m gone, I expect the two of you to make up, and when I get back, I hope you’ll both have a better attitude.” With that, he hoped down from the chair and walked into the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he said, “And, Papy, pick up those cards.”

“what? why me? i’m not the one that deliberately threw my cards everywhere.”

“Edge is injured,” Blue said slowly, exasperated, “Even if he is being rude.” Then Blue disappeared into the kitchen and any grumbling on his part was covered by the banging of pots and pans. The two Papyruses looked at each other. Neither of them was ready to admit guilt, let alone apologize.

“Well,” Edge said, “you heard him. Pick up the cards, Swapshit.”

Paps eyed him, his fingers flicking his lighter absently. Then his features relaxed into that easy grin that Edge—

(didn’t trust)

—hated, and he leaned back in his chair. “nah.”

“What do you mean, ‘nah’? Pick them up.”

“hmm…nah.”

“Stars, you can’t just _leave_ them there,” Edge said.

Paps smirked. “no, see, i can. ‘cause the cards? they aren’t bothering me. at least, not half as much as they’re bothering you.”

Edge blinked. “You—“ He growled, thumb rubbing at the space between his eyes. “It’s not my house, Swapshit. I don’t give a shit if you want to leave cards lying around all over the place. I just can’t believe you’re going to make your brother pick up after you like that.”

“eh. he’s used to it at this point.”

“He’s—!“ Edge swallowed the rest of that sentence, trying to keep his voice down. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” he snarled, leaning in. “Pick up the stupid fucking cards.”

“hmm…nah.”

Taking a deep breath—and ignoring the way his ribs ached when he did so—Edge leaned back and covered his sockets, trying to tell himself that the cards didn’t bother him, that Paps’ attitude didn’t bother him. It was not working. “You know,” he said grimly, “I know why I’m an asshole, but I can’t help but wonder: what’s your excuse?” With that, he gingerly slid to the floor, biting down on a pained grunt.

Paps shrugged, completely unconcerned by the dig. “told ya, fuckfell; you bring out the worst in me.” With that, he swept an arm out, causing the cards still on the table to flutter to the ground around Edge. He glared at the other monster for a solid ten seconds, but Paps’ lazy smile never wavered.

“Jackass.”

“i know you are but what am i?”

With an annoyed huff and a silent vow that he would not stoop to childish arguments—anymore than he already had, at least—Edge began to gather up the cards, absently sorting them by color. After a few minutes, he glanced at the kitchen door. Blue was still busy, and showed no signs of emerging.

“You know Alphys isn’t training him for the guard, right?” he asked, deciding he wasn’t going to dance around the subject. Pap’s chair abruptly dropped from balancing on two legs to stand on all four. He scooted the chair out so he could get a better look at Edge, who met his gaze with steely eyelights. If the other monster thought he either hadn’t pieced that together or that he was just going to let that little bit of information slide, then he had another thing coming.

Paps was completely still, his eyelights out entirely. Even Edge could admit that it was actually somewhat intimidating, if only in the privacy of his own mind. Or maybe it was the angle; him on the floor, Paps looming over him.

( _Feeling sick, feeling angry and humiliated—) Stop. It’s over with. Nothing happened_.

“what makes you say that?” Paps asked, his tone deceptively mild.

“I’m not an idiot, and whatever your flaws, neither are you. Don’t play stupid.” Two neat stacks of playing cards sat before him. One red. One black.

Paps too glanced at the kitchen before replying. “okay. fine, yeah. alphys isn’t training him for the guard—what’s your point?”

His hands closed into fists. He forced them open so he could snatch up the red stack, starting to sort them by suit. “What’s my point?” he demanded. “Did you really just ask me that?” He paused his sorting so he could glare.

“i’m waiting for an answer, fuckfell.”

His hands clenched and unclenched. Three stacks of cards. Two red. One black. Unacceptable—he picked up the black stack and started sifting them. “You cannot be serious,” he said, speaking through his teeth. “How the hell is he supposed to join the guard if his commander doesn’t train him? He doesn’t even know what it really means to _be_ a guard.”

( _“Alright, gutter-rat, prepare yourself. I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re a punk kid. No one else will ever offer you mercy, so don’t expect it from me. When I’m done with you, you’re either gonna be a guard or you’re gonna be dust. There is no third option.” His soul swelled with gratitude, because she never pretended to be his friend, wasn’t hiding her cruelty behind a smile. Looking back, he understood that there had actually been kindness hidden in her cruelty.)_

“It’s not as if he doesn’t have the strength for it, and I’m willing to bet his magic is impressive. So, what’s the problem?” Edge pressed.

“drop it,” Paps said, eyelights still out, “it’s none of your business, fuckfell.”

He narrowed his eyes and glared at the cards. He was sorting the spades now, laying them down in order, ace to king. “Maybe not, but you’re kidding yourself if you think I’m just going to let this go.”

“it’d be better for you if you did.”

His hands stilled on the cards as he looked up. “Careful, Swapshit. That almost sounded like a threat, and I know you’re smarter than that.”

“that wasn’t a threat,” Paps said flatly, “that was a warning.”

“Please. I’ve found things on the bottom of my boots that were more intimidating than you. So, what’s the endgame here?” he demanded, “Alphys keeps stringing him along, and then what? Is this some kind of joke? A game?”

“of course not!” Paps whisper-yelled. He glanced at the kitchen door to make sure they hadn’t attracted Blue’s attention. “this isn’t your universe; no one would ever hurt blue like that.”

Edge stared at him, trying to wrap his head around that logic. “Are you serious? What kind of bullshit reasoning is that? When he finds out—because, believe me, it’s a matter of ‘when’ not ‘if’—he is going to be _devastated_. How could you allow that?”

“i told you; it’s not your business, edgelord. stay out of it. he’s my brother, not yours.”

Slowly, Edge shook his head. He’d sorted both the spades and the clubs, and moved on to the hearts. “I can’t believe—“ He swallowed, trying to control his breathing. “You have absolutely no idea what that’s going to do to him, do you? Finding out that his own brother doesn’t think he can make his own decisions, doesn’t _believe_ in him.”

“of course i believe in him,” Paps hissed, “blue is—is incredible. he’s bright and optimistic and so full of hope sometimes it _hurts_. he’s not cut out to be a guard. he’s too innocent. it would destroy him, seeing some of the things the guards see, let alone having to do some of the things the guards have to do. i will not lose my little brother to that. he’ll lose interest when he doesn’t make any progress, and he’ll move on to something else.”

Edge set the last stack of cards down, all of them neatly sorted by suit and ordered from ace to king. His soul was vibrating with rage, his whole frame shaking with it. He grabbed the edge of the table, wanting to stand, but his ribs burned as soon as he tried to shove himself to his feet. He wasn’t asking for Paps’ help, so he’d just stay down here until he could push past the pain.

“I see,” he said flatly, “You want him to stay your sweet, innocent little brother forever. Never growing up. Never allowed to decide for himself. Never even given the chance.” He glared up at Paps, faintly aware of the magic flickering in his eye socket. “Do you even know how twisted that is, or do I have to spell it out for you?”

“fuck off,” Paps snapped, “you’re not exactly brother of the year.”

He clenched his hand to fend off the flinch that barb elicited—that hit a little too close to home, frankly. “At least I treat Red like an actual adult,” he said crisply, “And everything I do, I do so that we can survive our shit-hole of a universe.”

“is that how you justify being an abusive asshat?”

That surprised him enough that he couldn’t hide his flinch. It was like being slapped in the face. “ _What?!_ ” he asked, appalled, “Is that what you think?”

“you make him wear a collar with your—our—name on it. which, by the way, is super awkward to explain when i take him to muffet’s.”

Edge snorted. “After this morning, I’d think it was pretty obvious that I don’t _make_ him wear anything.”

“abuse victims sometimes internalize their abuse; they think they deserve it. just because you’ve managed to twist his head around doesn’t mean he’s not a victim.”

Edge leaned back, just staring at him blankly. Despite his insistence that he didn’t care what Paps thought of him, he found that he really hated knowing that his duplicate thought he abused his brother. Did Rus and Sans think that? Did Blue? The Swapfells probably did, but really, he didn’t care about their opinion. Sure, his relationship with Red was different from their counterparts’, but he’d never imagined that they’d think him capable of something like that.

“If I have ever hurt Red,” he finally said, slowly, “or if he has ever hurt me, then it was either an accident or the only option we had at that time. I will do anything to keep my brother safe. Anything. Judge me for that if you must, but I know that you would do the same.”

“i would never hurt my brother.”

“You self-righteous ass. You already are.” Edge couldn’t say that he was surprised when Paps hit him, but he had honestly been expecting a punch to the face, not a kick to his already battered ribs. He slapped a hand over his mouth, clenching his teeth to hold in a scream—

 _(“don’ cry, bro. don’ cry, papy._ please. _they’ll find us if ya do. ya gotta stay quiet. c’mon bro; yer not a babybones any more. i know ya can do it.”)_

—and bent at the waist, using his other hand to keep himself from face-planting on the carpet. A foot settled against the back of his neck, keeping him down. Rage caused his eyelights to flare and he glared up at Paps, despite the awkward angle. _I see your sins crawling on your back, Swapshit_. Ignoring the pain and the unspoken threat, he snarled, “It won’t work, you know. He’s not going to be happy in your shadow forever, and you’re going to have to let him out into the world to make his own decisions. When that time comes, you’d better hope you’ve prepared him for more than just playing the damsel until you can barge in, eyes blazing.”

“shut. up.” But the pressure on the back of his neck disappeared, and Paps backed away, playing with his lighter absently.

Edge sat up, favoring his injured side. Stars, he could feel the KR eating away at his health, point by point. He _hated_ that feeling. That trait was the whole reason Asgore had chosen Red as his Royal Judge—not only was it humiliating for offenders to be beaten down by literally the weakest monster in the underground, but Red’s low attack stat and his KR meant the whole affair was long and drawn out. Torturous. Given Red’s poor stamina, sometimes it took days. “You’re angry because I’m right,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“i’m angry because you’re a jackass,” but the statement lacked any heat. Paps wasn’t even looking at Edge anymore. His free hand gripped the top of his chair, and his magic was behaving erratically, crackling and dying back in rapid succession. Seeing that the other monster was occupied with some internal struggle, Edge took a look at his own injuries.

 _Well, shit._ It would have been funny if it weren’t so humiliating. He was always telling Red his mouth was going to get him killed one of these days. Yet here he was, bleeding out in Underswap of all places, because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Spent magic oozed from the bandages as the KR sapped his strength. He swayed, feeling lightheaded. Paps was right there, but Edge would rather dust than ask him for help. Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground and focused on staying conscious.

“ _stars_!” Suddenly, Paps was next to him, drawing him up. “are you—?” He caught sight of the magic bleeding from Edge’s side, and apparently decided that he was not okay. “Blue!” he yelled, raising his voice for once.

“don’ touch me,” Edge said, slouching into Paps’ grip despite his words. He pushed one hand against Paps’ chest, trying to force them apart, but there was almost no strength behind it.

“pal, now is not the time for your bullshit. Blue! We need help!”

There was another monster at his side, small and with a soothing aura. _Sans_ , he thought, a surge of warmth spearing through him, until he remembered that this wasn’t his brother. “Edge! Oh, my stars; you’re _bleeding_! What happened?”

Paps went completely still and stiff, and Edge let out a raw, nearly soundless laugh. “yer stupid fuckin’ brother wouldn’ pick up the stupid fuckin’ cards….” Fabulous. His accent always came back to him at the most humiliating times, no matter how hard he’d had it beaten out of him.

 _(“Come, now, dearie~. Do you_ want _people to think you’re nothing but a worthless little gutter-rat? Speak properly, or you can play with my pet. It’s almost lunchtime, you know. Ahuhuhu~”)_

He could feel Paps gaping at him, even as Blue chastized, “Brother! He’s _injured_! Stars, we are going to have a talk after we patch him up.”

“right,” Paps said quietly, “yeah. we are.” Speaking to Edge now, he raised his voice a little, “okay, bud, you gotta relax now, alright? stop fighting me, and we’ll get you fixed up.”

“Fuck. You.” He managed a semblance of strength for that, at least.

“right, i deserve that. okay, on the count of three, i’m going to stand up. blue can you open the door for me?”

“Yeah. I’ll get the first aid kit too.”

“right. okay. one…two… _three_.” On ‘three’ he stood up, staggering a little under Edge’s weight.

He chuckled hoarsely. “fewer cigarettes, swapshit. more calcium in yer… _your_ diet. less honey.” It felt like he was talking with someone else’s mouth. Red’s, maybe?

“can you stop being an asshole for two minutes? i’m trying to help you.” They walked awkwardly across the carpeted floor and into the spare bedroom, where Blue was waiting with bandages and antiseptic. Paps lowered him down so that Blue could guide him onto the bed.

“I have to turn off the stove, but I’ll be right back,” Blue said, but Paps cleared his throat.

“bro, let me do it. you keep fixing lunch, or we’re going to end up eating muffet’s again.”

“Papy—“ Edge almost laughed at how angry Blue sounded.

He tilted back his head. “It’s fine, Blue,” he said, a bit of strength returning to his voice. The KR had finally faded out. It had knocked out a chunk of HP, but he felt a little better nonetheless. “It’s his fault. Let ‘im fix it. Besides, if your Muffet’s is anything like our Grillby’s, there’s no way in hell I’m eatin’ it.” He wouldn’t be able to. Particularly if their Muffet’s cooking was actually more like his Muffet’s cooking than Grillby’s. His soul roiled at the very idea.

Blue was quiet for a few seconds. “I’m going to leave the door open. If either of you change your mind, just call for me, okay?” He turned his disappointed gaze on Paps, who flinched. “Be. Nice.”

Then Blue was gone, and Paps asked quietly, “why’d you lie to him?”

“I didn’ lie. You wouldn’t pick up the cards. Besides, I haven’t needed Sans to fight my battles for me in over a decade.” Bracing himself, Edge tried to sit up.

“what the fuck are you doing?” Paps demanded, forcing him down.

“Give me the bandages. I can do it myself.” He made an effort to drop the accent, focusing on pronunciation.

“uh, no, you really can’t.”

“Watch me, Swapshit.”

“holy fucking stars, you are impossible. would you just let me help you? i’m not going to hurt you—“

“Again.”

Paps flinched. “i’m…i’m sorry about that. i didn’t mean to—“

Edge snorted, forcing himself into a sitting position with a surge of effort. “Right. Your foot just accidentally slammed into my ribcage. Completely unintentional. Happens all the time.” He clenched the bedclothes, sockets shut as he waited for the light-headedness to pass. A hand rested against his upper spine, holding him up. He hissed, but knew that if he tried to pull away, he’d lose what little progress he’d made. Besides, there was still the matter of the deal he’d made.

 _Fuck the deal_. The thought pleased him, but he knew that he couldn’t just ignore their arrangement. “would you please just let me help you?”

“You think I want to be deeper in your debt?” he asked sharply.

“stars, edge, are you still stuck on that? there’s no price, okay? is it really so hard to accept that i just want to help?”

A bitter laugh. “No one ever just wants to help. There’s always an agenda. I’d rather know what it is going in than be blindsided by it later.”

( _“Please. Somethin’s wrong with Sans. I-I need help. Ya said you’d—“_

 _“You’re cute, dearie, but here’s how this is going to work; you’re either going to do what I say, or you and your pathetic brother are going to be part of my next batch~. You should just be grateful that I can make use of you. Otherwise, you’d already be dust. Ahuhuhu. I suppose I mean you’d already be_ flour _. Ahuhuhu~”_

_“If I agree…will ya leave ‘im alone?”_

_“He’s no use to me, not as he is, but I suppose if you want to keep him for a pet, I’ll spare him~. Aren’t I generous? You’re lucky it was I that found you, and not something worse. There are plenty of monsters that would eat a cute little thing like you right up. Ahuhuhu~”_ )

“i don’t have an agenda, edge.” Paps sounded tired rather than exasperated.

“You don’t even like me,” Edge snapped, “and you’re not half as nice as you pretend to be. Tell me what you want or get out.”

“stars, i just want you to trust me.”

“Why? That’s not an end; it’s a means. Why do you need my trust? Are you currying favor with me to get closer to my brother?”

“what?! why would you even _think_ that?”

“Oh, please. I’m not stupid, and you’re not exactly subtle. I don’t know why you’re trying to get my approval, though. I don’t dictate my brother’s sexual partners, and I’m sure as hell not going to push him toward you.”

“i’m not—i don’t—“ Paps gaped at him. Then, finally, he sighed and said, “edge. i hurt you. not…not unintentionally, but a lot—a _lot_ —worse than i meant to. i’m just trying to make up for that. besides….” Paps bent forward, cupping his elbows in his hands. Shame was written in every line of his features. “what you said…about me and my brother…there’s more truth to that than i want to admit. i’m—“ He took a deep breath, not raising his head. “i’m ashamed…but i’m also glad you made me see what i was doing. i never— _never_ —saw it like that. blue is the most important person in my life. i just wanted to protect him. i never thought i might be taking that too far. i didn’t think i could.

“so, how ‘bout this; as part of my debt to you for showing me that, you allow me to patch you up?” Edge considered him dubiously. “please, edge. let me do this.”

His soul still thrummed nervously, but he considered Paps carefully, taking in his contrite posture. This wasn’t how things were done in his universe…but they weren’t in his universe, were they? Besides, he hated to admit it, but Paps was right; he didn’t have the strength to do this himself. Just sitting upright was taking all his concentration. “Alright, Swapshit. You may attend my injuries,” he said imperiously. “Besides, nothing you do could possibly be worse than I’ve already had.”

Paps smirked. “you know, edge, you’re not so tough-looking wrapped up in blankets and bandages. if i were you, i’d drop the tough guy attitude for the time being.”

Edge raised a brow-bone. “A moldsmal could dust me right now,” he said, unable to hide his bitterness, “I’m not claiming to be tough—I’m saying that you lack imagination.” He eyed the guest room. “And equipment.” Paps looked decidedly uneasy at that.

“…i don’t even want to know.”

“No,” he agreed tiredly, lifting his arm so that Paps could begin unwinding the bandages. “You really don’t.” Paps fitted himself under his arm, so that he could, surprisingly gently, unwrap the bandages. “Asgore’s horns, I’m not made of glass—you don’t have to be so delicate about it.”

“just shut up and let me do this, okay?” A portion of the wrappings stuck to his ribs, glued there by dried marrow and spent magic. Paps tugged it away, and Edge’s arm dropped to land on Paps’ shoulders. His hand tightened around the other’s clavical as he hissed through his teeth. “not made of glass, huh?”

“F-fuck off,” he grit out.

Surprisingly, Paps used a free hand to pet Edge’s uninjured scapula soothingly. “easy, there, edgelord. we’re almost done.” It felt…nice. Unconsciously, he leaned into the gentle touch. Paps flattened his hand against Edge’s scapula and upper back, his thumb sweeping across it lazily. Still supporting his upper back, Paps continued to unwind the wrappings carefully. The last bit of bandaging peeled away, red with spent magic, and Paps set it on the bedside table. “this is going to sting. feel free to squeeze my shoulder if it makes it easier.”

Edge was broken down enough at this point that all he could really say was, “Whatever.” Paps grabbed the antiseptic spray from the first aid kit and misted his ribs. The sudden stinging caused him to grip Paps tightly, pressing his forehead against the other monster’s shoulder. “Nhg— _fuck_ ,” he hissed. Paps’ thumb still ran over Edge’s scapula, a comforting anchor.

“i’m not even going to ask how it is you can take a kick to your already broken ribs without making a sound, but whine like a babybones when i use the spray,” Paps said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

The answer was easy and obvious, even if Edge had no intention of sharing it. Every Fell monster knew you only revealed pain when you were in a safe place. “Just get on with it.”

“Is everything okay in here?” Blue asked, poking his head in.

“Fine,” Edge said stiffly.

“yeah, bro. we’re almost done.”

Blue eyed them, an odd look in his eyelights. “I just wanted to check on you two. Lunch is ready whenever you are.” Edge rolled that thought around in his head, then relaxed when he recognized the first stirrings of hunger. Good. Either his magic stores were depleted enough that his soul just didn’t care, or he wasn’t half as anxious about this whole situation as he should have been.

“great. thanks, bro. we’ll be out in just a minute.”

Blue smiled pleasantly. “It’s nice to see you two getting along.” Then he was gone again. The two taller skeletons eyed each other.

“I won’t correct him if you won’t.”

“deal.” After that, they finished up brusquely and emerged a few minutes later. Paps held out a hand to support Edge, but Edge pulled away from him. He didn’t need the help. He didn’t need— “hey, fuckfell, you remember our deal, don’t you? you have to put up with all the touching i want to inflict on you. so, if i want to guide you to the dining room table, then i’m going to damn well guide you there.”

For a second, Edge just stared at him. “You devious bastard.” Paps cracked a smile.

“damn straight.” Edge allowed him to loop a supportive arm around his waist while he draped an arm over Paps’ shoulders. He held in a sigh of relief, the ache in his ribs relieved a little as the weight was taken off of that side. They hobbled to the table awkwardly, Paps visibly struggling under Edge’s weight.

“This is humiliating.”

“oh, come on, you’ll be back to your normal self soon enough.”

“No, I mean for you. Stars, what are you made of? Toothpicks? Blue’s twice as strong and he’s a third your size. How the hell are you any version of me?”

“maybe you just need to lose some weight.”

Edge snorted, shaking his head. “Oh, ouch. Good thing I’m not a teenage girl, or that might have hurt my feelings.”

“…you have feelings?”

A heavy sigh came from the kitchen doorway. “So much for getting along,” Blue said, carrying a pot out to the table, which was already set for three people. “How are you feeling, Edge?”

“I’m fine, pipsqueak.” Blue eyed him critically, then set aside the pot so he could support Edge as he sat down. “Asgore’s horns,” Edge complained, “would you two stop acting like I’m going to break if you look at me cross-eyed?”

Blue blushed a little, fluttering nervously. “Sorry,” he said, wringing his hands absently. “It’s just—“ Blue cut himself off, apparently deciding he shouldn’t say whatever he was thinking. “Well, you’ll feel better after lunch, I’m sure. I tried to put as much healing magic into it as I could.” The pipsqueak did look a little drawn around the eyes.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Edge said, too surprised to come up with something snarky.

“It’s no problem for the Magnificent Sans!” he declared, though his usual enthusiasm was somewhat dimmed. “Here, let me dish you up.” He uncovered the pot, and Edge narrowed his sockets. Rice and beans, with cubed bell pepper and ham stirred in. He remembered his episode from this morning, and wondered if the pipsqueak was testing him.

Blue set the bowl before him. “Thank you,” he said carefully.

“You’re welcome!” The requisite brightness was there, but there was something hidden beneath it. “Let me know if you’d rather have something else. I’m happy to accommodate you.” There was definitely another emotion there, covered by his normal cheer. Edge was immediately put on alert, until he recognized the concern in Blue’s gaze. He was worried. About Edge.

_(“uh, boss? you okay?”_

_“I’m fine.”_

_“it’s just…you ain’t eatin’. it’s been a couple days now, an’ i’m, uh, i’m wonderin'—“_

_“Drop it, runt. I’ll eat when I’m hungry.”)_

Deliberately, Edge took a spoonful and ate, no need to sort the rice from the beans. Despite his fight with Paps, he was actually feeling pretty good—about as relaxed as he ever felt. He swallowed, the food immediately transforming to pure magic. His soul swelled with it, drinking it in. “It’s good, pipsqueak. You’ll have to give me the recipe.” No lie, this time.

The brightness in Blue’s features became more visceral, more real. The stars in his eyes swelled and he puffed out his chest. “Of course! They don’t call me the Magnificent Sans for nothing!” Stars it was hard not to smile with Blue around. He turned back to his food, realizing belatedly that Paps had been watching him too. Internally, he sighed; it was really his own fault. If he had better control of himself, they never would have seen his little episode.

His magic reserves were almost completely drained at this point, and he’d lost whatever HP he’d gained from the breakfast burrito this morning. He needed the food, and he was glad he didn’t have to force it down. He’d had to do so in the past, though he’d always felt sick afterward. His soul pulsed a little unsteadily as his spoon scrapped the bottom of the bowl, but he was nearly able to finish everything. Warm magic spread outward from his soul, replacing whatever bits of the healing matrix he’d lost to Paps’ KR.

When they’d finished their meal and Blue had cleared away the plates, he bounded back into the room, asking, “Do you want to watch a movie? Or do you want to finish our puzzle? I put the board on the kitchen table, in case we wanted to continue.”

Edge considered, before saying that he wouldn’t object to watching a movie. Blue beamed and, again, began to buzz about busily. Within minutes, he’d constructed what Edge could only call a nest in front of the couch. The couch cushions had been dragged onto the floor, pillows arranged on and around them. Cozy-looking blankets were draped over everything.

Edge eyed Paps questioningly. Paps just shrugged. “Come on, Edge!” Blue called, as he ran over to help Edge from the table to the couch.

“Pipsqueak, what is this?” he asked, indicating the mess of cushions and pillows.

Blue helped him to the ground and wrapped them both in blankets, before he burrowed into Edge’s uninjured side. “It makes me feel better when I’m sick, so I thought it might make you feel better too!” Edge froze, unsure how to take the press of the small body beside him.

 _(Sharp claws digging between his ribs, picking at the magic nodes around his joints.)_ No. Blue wouldn’t do that to him.

He leaned into the pillows at his back, trying to force himself to relax. Paps followed behind them, a fresh bottle of honey in his hand. “is there room for me, bro?”

“Of course, Papy!” Blue dutifully scooted over, causing Edge to shift as well. Blue trilled happily when Paps settled beside him, the two of them sharing a blanket. Edge looked away, his soul pulsing with something that wasn’t quite jealousy, though with a push it could become that. _Stop it_ , he ordered himself, _Their world is so saccharine it’s nauseating. I don’t want any part of that_.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t suppress the burst of warmth he felt when Blue snuggled up close to him, dragging Paps along. He was perfectly sandwiched between the two taller skeletons, and seemed to be quite pleased about it. Gently—hesitantly—Edge put a hand on top of Blue’s skull to lightly scratch at his coronal suture; if he was anything like Red, then—

He smirked with satisfaction when Blue began to purr. “What are we watching, pipsqueak?”

Blue started to babble about the anime that he’d borrowed from Undyne as he grabbed the remote from behind them. He flicked on the tv and hit play. Edge was more than a little surprised. Most of the anime that his Undyne had forced him to watch—claiming something about developing their ‘strategy’ and studying human tactics, though he suspected it had more to do with Alphys’ obsession with the media than anything else—had been violent, sexual, and to be frank, sickening even to someone as jaded as him. He’d never call it boring, though.

Blue’s anime, however, was almost hypnotic; nothing seemed to be happening, but the animation was beautiful. He wouldn’t really call it boring, exactly. Maybe, peaceful? Yes, that seemed most accurate. Within a few minutes, he found himself struggling to keep his sockets open. He would not sleep in the open like Red. That was beneath him. He was the Great and Terrible Papyrus. He was….

—was….

He…was….

…he….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to see the "nest" idea explored in more detail, go check out NERDHANDS' Jog Boy Requests, Chapter 10 "Soul Brothers". It's a really sweet hurt/comfort piece, and I took inspiration from it for this fic.


	6. It's a Papyrus thing...or not.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which confessions are made and Edge doesn't have the time or patience for Paps' bullshit.

Paps jumped a little when Edge slumped suddenly against Blue. “did he just pass out?” he asked, somewhat alarmed.

Blue giggled. “Nope. He fell asleep. He’s been fighting it for the last few minutes, but it looks like he’s out now.”

“huh. i was not expecting that.” It seemed so out of character that, for an insane moment, he wondered if Blue had dosed the edgelord’s food. Then sanity re-asserted itself, and he realized that Blue hadn’t needed to resort to Fell-verse tactics to put the other skeleton to sleep. Good, magic-rich food; a relaxing movie with a peaceful soundtrack; and a warm, safe, comfortable place to rest. Given his injuries, Edge really didn’t stand a chance. “nice one, bro.”

Careful not to jostle his patient, Blue gently lowered Edge so he was lying on his uninjured side, even putting a pillow under the edgelord’s skull. He ran a few fingers over Edge’s coronal suture; the taller skeleton sighed in his sleep, but he didn’t purr as Blue had just a few minutes ago.

_(Edge purring for him, sockets half-shut and almost-smiling.)_

“Brother?” There was no way that Blue could possibly know what he was thinking about, but he flushed orange nonetheless.

“uh, yeah, bro?” he asked, trying not to look suspicious and knowing that his too-casual fidgeting only served to make him look even more suspicious.

“What really happened?” he asked softly. Paps froze, his oddly pleasant fantasy chased away immediately. His little brother was looking up at him, the stars absent from his eyes, and a question plain on his face. Paps’ soul flickered with shame. That actually surprised him a little bit. He wasn’t really a monster of action—he far preferred a good nap to anything resembling action—but he had always been decisive. It wasn’t often that he looked back and regretted his actions or second-guessed himself. That’s what made him a good Judge. No regrets. No doubts.

This, though, he regretted. Deeply. “Brother?” Blue asked again. “I could hear you two arguing, but I couldn’t tell what it was about.” He pulled the deck of cards from his inventory. “I found these, though. All fifty-two, sorted by suit and ordered from ace to king.” Blue looked up at him, and there wasn’t any accusation there, just a desperate need to understand. “He didn’t hurt himself getting down to pick these up. He was down there long enough to do this.” He tapped the topmost card. “What happened, Papy?”

Paps leaned down, curling in on himself as he cradled his skull in his hands. Blue rubbed his back comfortingly, but he didn’t retract the question. “we were arguing,” he said softly, “and…i did something…something i shouldn’t have done.”

“Oh, Papy—no!” Blue said, staring at him with such deep sorrow that it made his soul clench. “Why?”

_(“You self-righteous ass. You already are.” Something inside him snapped. A deep well of rage he hadn’t even been aware of bubbled up, and before he’d made any kind of conscious decision to do so—before he’d considered his KR and Edge’s LV—he lashed out. He didn’t even realize what he’d done to Edge—to Blue—until Edge was glaring up at him, despite the foot pressed into his cervical vertebrae, and he could feel his sins crawling on his back.)_

“he said something i didn’t want to be true,” he confessed quietly.

“Papy,” Blue said, gently chastising, “you know that’s not how to settle an argument. You shouldn’t fight with people unless you have to—you’re the one that taught me that.”

“and you don’t kick someone when they’re down,” Paps added. He didn’t really intend it as a pun—it was more like a verbal whip to lash himself with.

“No, you help them back to their feet,” Blue said. He looped an arm over Paps’ shoulders and drew him in. “Brother, I know you two don’t get along, but what could he have possibly said to make you want to hurt him?”

Paps flinched. “I didn’t mean to. I forgot about his LV.”

“I know, brother.” There was absolution in Blue’s gaze, in the gentle way he handled Paps. Then the smaller monster looked down at the sleeping skeleton and traced the scars on Edge’s skull. The Fell monster huffed in his sleep and turned away, curling in on himself. He didn’t sprawl, as Paps did when he slept, but pulled in, like he was afraid to take up too much space. Blue pulled his hand away, not wanting to disturb the sleeping monster. “What happens, Papy, when they return to Underfell? Edge and Red?”

Paps took a breath. _nothing good_. Aloud, he said, “i’m sure they’ll be okay. they’ve lived their whole lives there.” The words—not a lie, but stars, they felt like it—were heavy in his mouth. Blue’s expression was unreadable due to his perma-smile. Paps looked away, his soul squirming uncomfortably. He knew what he had to do, but he really, really didn’t want to. “uh, blue? can i…can i talk to you about something?”

“You can talk to me about anything. You know that.”

“it’s about alphys, and…your training.”

Blue looked up, brow-bones furrowed in concern. “She’s okay, right? She’s not sick or anything, is she? She knows I’ll understand if she has to skip our training sessions, right? In fact, if she’s sick, I can make some taco soup for her—“ Paps caught him by the shoulder and gently forced him to sit back down. He resisted the urge to shudder at the mention of Blue’s taco soup. While his brother was, largely, a good cook, a few of his recipes were a little…off. The taco soup was one such recipe, which was so spicy that Paps sometimes thought it would melt his mandible right off. It did clear out the sinuses, though.

“that’s not necessary, blue. alphys isn’t sick.” He swallowed, and drew Blue into his side, hoping to cushion the blow. He wanted to be here, if Blue needed a shoulder to cry on. “i just….” Stars, how was he even supposed to start this conversation? “she’s not…she’s not training you for the guard, blue. your sessions are just…cooking lessons.” He didn’t add that they weren’t very good cooking lessons. Blue, thankfully, was willing to deviate from Alphys’ instructions. He braced himself, waiting for the tears.

“Oh. Is that all?”

“it’s alright, bro, we can—wait. what?”

“Papy,” Blue said patiently, “I’m not stupid. I know that learning how to make tacos isn’t part of guard training. Alphys doesn’t think I’m ready for real training, yet, but I figure…if she gets to know me better, maybe she’ll see what I can really do. That’s why I really need to catch a human. Then she’ll have to see that I have what it takes to be in the guard.” For a second, Blue almost looked melancholy, despite his permanent grin, “I worry that she thinks I should still be in stripes, sometimes—but I’d be a good guard, if she just gave me the chance.” Then the stars were back in his eyes, and any trace of melancholy was gone. “Right, brother?”

Paps stared down at him, his soul aching to see the hope shining in his brother’s eyelights. “’course you would, bro. you’d be the _best_.” He pulled him close, tucking Blue’s skull under his chin. _baby steps_ , he told himself, trying to soothe away the guilt eating at this soul. Maybe next time, they’d discuss what guard duty entailed. And why Blue would be better suited to something else. Anything else.

He leaned back against the couch and echoed Edge’s earlier actions, scratching soothingly at Blue’s coronal suture. _how’d edge know about that, anyway?_ Brother safely tucked against him, warm in the nest of blankets and pillows and cushions, was it any surprise that Paps too succumbed to sleep? He didn’t even realize he’d started napping until he woke up a couple hours later.

At some point, Blue had tucked the blanket around him before leaving him and Edge alone in the pile of blankets and cushions. Edge didn’t appear to have moved more than an inch or so, but Paps was on his front, sprawled out like a starfish. His limbs were so carefully arranged around Edge, never quite touching the Fell monster, that Paps immediately suspected that Blue had something to do with his sleeping position. Trust Blue to ensure his guest’s comfort, even if it meant re-arranging his sleeping brother.

Yawning, he rolled onto his side to regard the other skeleton. Even in sleep, his features were sharp and tense, as if he couldn’t bring himself to relax even now. Paps glanced around, looking for his honey, but Blue had apparently taken it back to the kitchen so it wouldn’t spill while he slept. Shrugging it off, Paps pulled the blanket more tightly around himself, preparing to go back to sleep and enjoy the privilege of Blue-sanctioned napping. Then, a cell phone suddenly started to vibrate.

Edge was awake in an instant, magic gathered around his fingertips and his eyes blazing. “holy shit!” Paps exclaimed, more than a little startled. Edge glared at him as he dismissed his magic and fished the phone out of his pocket.

“About time you checked in, runt,” he said. He didn’t even have the decency to sound as if he’d just woken up. He sounded like his normal asshole self.

“is that red?” Edge didn’t answer, just glared and waved him off in the multi-universal sign for ‘Shut up, I’m on the phone’. Well, in that case—Paps leaned in, looping an arm around Edge’s shoulders and pressing the side of his skull against Edge’s, the phone trapped between the two of them.

“Gah! What are you doing!?” Over the phone, Paps heard Red, his voice tinny and distant, say that he wasn’t doing anything. “Not you, runt. Swapshit. He’s—“ He stopped, as if unsure exactly how to describe what Paps was doing.

“heya, red,” Paps said, “can you hear me?”

“uh…yeah? ‘m i on speaker phone er sumthin’?”

“No,” Edge said sharply.

Red took a second to piece that together, then he lost it. “holy fuckin’ stars, paps, yer gettin’ a bit close to my baby bro there, ain’t ya?”

“Red. No.”

“’m i gonna hafta have a t _-_ talk wit ya?” he asked between snorts of laughter, “‘if ya ever h-hurt ‘im’—“ Great guffaws of laughter. “holy shit, i can’t—i can’t _even_ —“

“Are you quite done?” Edge asked. “I’d like a status report, runt.” He cocked his head, sockets closed. “Where the hell are you, anyway? I don’t recognize this room.”

Paps slowly turned to look at him. What. The. Fuck. “edge…you know how phones work, right? there’s no video feature. just audio.”

“You can’t see anything? I thought it was a Papyrus thing. Rus can do it.”

“…you’re joking, right?”

“I don’t have time for this. Runt—status?”

“things ‘r goin’ great. fan-fuckin’-tastic. wish ya were here. i’ll send ya a fuckin’ postcard.” There was a muffled sound in the background, and Red chuckled. “oh yeah. i almost fergot; i got a present fer ya, boss.”

Edge went suddenly very still, though Paps couldn’t see why. Red had always had a bit of an odd sense of humor—it was part of his charm. “Sans,” he said, carefully, “what’s going on?”

“nuthin’, boss. i know ya like ta keep snowdin nice n’ clean, so when i spotted this piece ‘a trash, well—“ Paps could practically hear Red’s smirk. “can ya see ‘im?”

Edge leaned forward, pinching the ridge of bone between his eyes. Startled, Paps followed him down. Edge was too distracted to glare at him, but he did elbow Paps in the ribs. “Sans—“

“he’s one ‘a muffet’s errand boys. ya know the kind she likes, doncha, boss?” Red chuckled, and Paps went still and stiff. That…that was not the laugh of a stable monster. “kinda pretty, ain’t he?”

Very faintly, Paps heard another voice in the background. It sounded desperate and frightened. Edge’s hand was laid over his sockets, now, and he had gone completely still and silent. “hey, kiddo, what are you—“

“don’ worry about it, paps,” said Red, his voice suddenly harsh and defensive, “this don’ concern a tale-verse monster. in fact, ya’d prob’ly be a lot happier if ya were to step away fer a bit. ya don’ need ta hear this.” His accent was thicker, and even a little menacing.

“red—“

Edge covered the microphone. “Shut up and let me handle this, alright?” He removed his hand. “Alright, Sans. You intercepted him. I take it he was on an errand from Muffet?”

“yeah. little bastard was goin’ out ta the ruins. looks like muffet’s usin’ yer absence ta try ‘n re-establish ‘er supply line.”

“Very good, Sans. Restrain him and take him to the Dogi. They’re loyal; they won’t try to harm—“

“see, here’s the thing, boss. i been thinkin’.”

“Of course you have,” Edge said under his breath. Louder, he said, “I’m listening.”

“why ‘r we botherin’ ta play by the rules, huh? no one else does. not in underfell. ‘n besides, those rules? they don’ benefit anyone but asgore, do they? they sure ‘s fuck don’ benefit me er you. er even this piece ‘a shit over here. so, boss, how ‘bout we send muffet a message she’ll understand? ya know—finally convince ‘er ta stop sendin’ ‘er errand boys through snowdin. c’mon, boss. yer too fuckin’ nice, sometimes. we’re fuckin’ fell-verse monsters. why ‘r we botherin’ ta deny it? why bother pretendin’ ta be something we ain’t never gonna be?”

Paps almost flinched away from the phone. This wasn’t Red. Not the Red he knew. He looked to Edge, almost frantic, but Edge’s features were carefully blank, devoid of even his trademark smirk. “Sans,” Edge ordered, “report back here immediately. This is not up for debate. Return to Underswap now.”

“sure, boss. soon as i take out the trash.”

“Sans,” Edge growled, “he’s a stars-damned kid who’s gotten involved in shit he can’t even begin to understand. Take him to the guard. That’s what they’re there for.”

“i don’ see no stripes. ‘es old enough ta run drugs fer muffet. ‘es old enough to know there’s gonna be consequences.”

“Sans—“

“’es old enough ta have dust on ‘is hands, boss. ‘es got 8 lv. yer ‘kid’ ain’t exactly innocent,” Sans snarled, his voice shaking, “an i’m the royal judge, ain’ i? maybe its time i started actin’ like it. paps knows what i mean. why don’ ya talk ta ‘im? betcha he’ll back me up on this.”

Paps didn’t say a word, just looked at Edge with wide sockets, shaking his head faintly. “If you’re going to start executing people for their LV, you’d better start with me,” Edge said quietly, ignoring Paps, “I’m not saying let him go, Sans. Bring him to the guard; Undyne and I will find an appropriate punishment for him. But you’re coming back to Underswap as soon as he’s in custody. Am I clear?”

Red didn’t say anything for a long time. “an’ if i don’?”

“Runt, if you’re not here within the hour, I will go to Underfell and hunt you down, broken ribs or no.”

“ya can’t do that—“ Red said, and he sounded more like himself. “boss. ya _can’t_.”

“Watch me.”

For a second, Paps was afraid that Red would argue further, but then he said, distantly, “ya owe boss a big fuckin’ ‘thank you’. so, here; i wan’ ya ta say, ‘thank you, lieutenant papyrus.’”

“Th-thank you, L-lieutenant Pa-payrus,” an unfamiliar voice said, between sobs.

“Stop fucking crying,” Edge snarled, “Grow a damn spine.” There came a distant laugh when Red heard his brother’s words.

“ya sure i can’t drop ‘im on muffet’s doorstep, boss? i’ll only rough ‘im up a bit. he don’ need _both_ ‘is hands, right?”

“Get your ass over here, runt.”

“fine, boss, fine. i’ll turn the little bitch in ta the guard. happy?”

“Good.” Red hung up, and Edge let out a slow breath, massaging the center of his forehead as if he had a headache. “Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath. Then he met Paps’ eye and sneered. “Having second thoughts about inviting a pair of gutter-rats into your home, Swapshit?”

“…what…what was that?” he asked, ignoring Edge’s jab, “that didn’t sound like him. i mean, of course it was his voice, but the things he was saying—“ He stopped, realizing he was babbling. “he…he wouldn’t have really dusted that kid, would he?”

Slowly, the pugilistic sneer faded from Edge’s face, and he dropped out of his antagonistic posturing. “He needed a reason to be merciful,” Edge said quietly, “He didn’t want to kill anyone, but he needed a reason not to.”

“why would he need a reason to not kill someone?!” Paps asked, more than a little alarmed, “i don’t know about you, but i find _not_ doing things a whole hell of a lot easier than doing them!” Edge reached out and clasped his shoulder firmly.

“Breathe, Swapshit.” Somehow, the insult was calming. It just felt so normal after the insanity bomb that Red had dropped on them. “You’re a Tale monster. I don’t expect you to understand.” He squeezed Paps’ shoulder—on just the wrong side of painful, making Paps grimace—before he used the couch to lever himself to his feet, inhaling sharply when his ribs protested the move. “Can you get Blue out of the house for a bit? This is Fell-verse bullshit; neither of you should have to deal with it.”

Paps blinked up at him, momentarily owl-eyed. Then he eyed the other monster and said carefully, “i don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“look, edge, you’ve got to admit you’re not the most…cuddly…of monsters. if red’s having some sort of-of breakdown, don’t you think he needs someone with a softer touch?”

The look Edge gave him was probably the same look he’d give to a piece of manure stuck to his boot—appalled and disgusted, but also stunned by the sheer audacity. “You—“ He took a breath, too mad to speak. A flicker of red magic appeared in his eye, but it fizzled out quickly.

After taking another breath, Edge said slowly, “Listen to me, you abominable jackass, I have been taking care of my brother for years without your assistance. You think this is the first time he’s had one of these episodes? You think I don’t know how to handle him? You think you can do a better job?” Edge took another breath, visibly forcing himself to calm. “If Red’s health wasn’t my priority, I would dare you to try, and mock you when you inevitably failed,” he continued, “As it stands, however, I am going to—politely—ask you to mind your own fucking business and let me handle this.”

Alright, the gloves were coming off now. “look, i was being nice before. i trust you about as far as i can throw you, and without a convenient cliff, that’s not all that far. i can’t stop whatever fucked-up shit you get up to in your own universe, but i’m sure as hell not going to let it go on under my roof.” Paps drew himself up completely, showcasing that he was a full inch taller than the other monster.

Edge was less than impressed. “I don’t have time for this. Red’s—“

“What about Red?” Blue asked from the kitchen doorway. Apparently, after the anime had concluded, he’d left the Papyruses napping so that he could finish the dishes. “What’s going on?”

Paps made an effort not to freeze. Instead, he settled back into his comfortable slouch, an easy grin following naturally. “red’ll be back in a bit, little bro. he had a bit of a rough time of it, but he’ll be fine soon as he gets back here.” His hands slipped into his hoodie pocket, and he played absently with the lighter and the pack of cigarettes he kept there. He wished he had a bottle of honey on hand. A drink would be really nice about now. “but, uh, edge and i were talking. about you and your puzzles. and how important it is for you to catch a human.”

Edge turned slowly to stare at him, while Blue looked on with a wide smile and stars in his eyelights. “Really, brother? It’s not like you to take an interest in work. I guess our earlier conversation made a real impression!”

“yep, guess so. anyway, ‘cause of the edgelord here—“ He gestured to Edge, ignoring Blue’s disapproving frown at the derogatory nickname. “—you haven’t really had much of a chance to recalibrate your puzzles, have you? so i was thinking you could head out for a few hours and take some time to fix them up, just in case a human comes through. how’s that sound to you, bro?”

Blue smiled broadly, stars in his eyelights shining brighter than usual. “Really, Papy?” he asked, “Do you think you two can be nice to each other while I’m gone?” There was something a little…off about his smile, but Paps thought he must be imagining it. He had to be. “Edge?” Blue asked brightly, though his voice had an odd waver to it at the end. Probably afraid that Fuckfell would say ‘no’.

The entire time Paps had been speaking, Edge never looked away from him. He still hadn’t. Weirdly, Paps could feel shame crawling up his spine. He turned to meet Edge’s gaze and smiled at him pleasantly. _don’t you dare fuck this up_ , he thought, willing the other skeleton to read the message in his mild mien. Scowl firmly in place, Edge turned away from Paps and regarded Blue. “Recalibrating your puzzles might be a good idea,” he said, and the stars flickered in Blue’s eyelights, “I’d rather you weren’t here when Red got back. He’s not himself, and having other monsters around is going to make it more difficult to steady him.”

The stars instantly went out of Blue’s eyelights. _“what the fuck is wrong with you?_ ” Paps whisper-hissed to Edge.

The other monster didn’t even acknowledge him. He just watched Blue as the small monster approached. “Is Red alright?” Blue asked.

Edge seemed to take a moment to survey Blue, taking in the genuine concern in his gaze. “No,” Edge said with an exhale, “but he will be.” Coming from the menacing skeleton, that almost sounded like a threat.

Blue glanced at Paps. “Papy’s staying?”

“Yes,” Edge grit out, “because he thinks I’m going to _beat_ my brother, apparently.”

“Papy!” Blue said, scandalized, “How could you even suggest something so—so _heinous_?” Paps just shrugged, unwilling to apologize for looking out for Red. Blue shook a chastising finger at him, but cut off his scolding when he saw the stubborn set of his shoulders. With a heavy sigh, he turned back to the scarred skeleton. “I’m sorry, Edge. I can’t believe—I’m sorry. He has no manners.”

Surprisingly, Edge had relaxed marginally during Blue’s attempts to reprimand Paps. “It’s alright, pipsqueak. After I teach you how to count cards, I’ll show you how to train him,” he replied, deadpan.

“hey!”

Blue’s eyelights sparked, small stars swirling in their depths. “Can we invite Rus and Slim? I think they need a little help in that area too.” Paps looked between them, again disturbed that his brother seemed to be bonding with the Fell monster. The fact that Blue was apparently concerned about Slim was also troubling. Razz was all bark and no bite, but Slim was not to be trusted—that shady bastard was hiding something. He had no idea what. Just. Something.

Edge chuckled. “How about we pool our collective knowledge? Learn from each other. And maybe we’ll just kidnap Slim. I don’t think his brother would let him come.”

“I’ll bring tacos.”

“I’ll bring cake.”

Blue smiled up at Edge, while Edge’s smirk transformed into that almost-smile that made Paps’ soul twitch uncomfortably. Blue’s smile went a little soft around the edges, and he asked, hesitantly, “You’ll tell me if there’s something I can do for Red, right?” Edge’s expression immediately closed off and he looked away.

“It’s not your business, pipsqueak. I can handle it.”

Slowly, giving Edge every opportunity to pull away, Blue reached out to take his hand. Edge flinched very slightly when Blue’s phalanges closed around his, but he didn’t retract his hand. He was taking Paps’ screwball deal weirdly serious, and Paps couldn’t deny that he felt a twinge of guilt for that. Just a twinge. “Edge? Why didn’t you call for help when Papy hurt you? I’d have come.”

Edge’s flinch was a lot more pronounced this time. “I should have guessed you’d figure that out. It was the cards, wasn’t it?” Blue nodded, and Edge looked away. “He’s your brother. Besides, I managed. My HP wasn’t so low that a single hit would have killed me.”

“You don’t have to just manage,” Blue said gently, finger bones rubbing soothingly against Edge’s. “And I like helping people! I can—“

Edge’s expression tightened into a scowl. “There’s nothing you can do to help me or Red,” he said sharply, “Except leave. May I have my hand back now?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Blue dropped his hand, looking like he was trying very hard not to show how much that hurt him. Paps immediately wanted to punch Edge in the face, but somehow, he was pretty sure Blue wouldn’t approve. In any case, Blue’s smile returned full force in a few seconds. “I’d better get my tools together if I’m going to be recalibrating my puzzles.” Then he was off, gathering spare spikes and wire and stars only knew what else while the two taller skeletons watched. For another monster, it probably would have taken a good fifteen minutes. For Blue, it barely took five.

Before he left, he paused in the doorway and waved to Paps. “Bye-bye, Papy. Be nice to Edge while I’m gone.”

“sure, bro. for you.”

“Bye, Edge! I hope Red feels better soon. Oh and, um, thank you. For—well, you know.” What? Paps looked between the two, more than a little confused by that.

As Blue had gathered all his puzzle-making tools, Edge had slowly loosened his posture, so he wasn’t quite so closed off. Now, that almost-smile returned immediately. “Anytime, pipsqueak.” Then he lifted his chin and crossed his arms over his chest, looking like he was about to face down an enemy monster. “And I’ll—if there’s something you can do. For Red. I’ll call you. Alright?”

The sparks in Blue’s eyelights flickered between hearts and stars as he dropped his pack and ran over to deliver a hug. “Of course, Edge~! I’ll drop everything and come immediately—“

“Okay. Yes. Great. Please, detach yourself from my pelvis. You’re making this weirder than it needs to be.” Edge’s hands hovered over Blue’s shoulders, as if he had no idea where to put them, and his features were flushed a faint red. _if he wasn’t such an asshole, that would be adorable_.

Blue giggled, then ran back to the door, grabbing the backpack—which was nearly as big as he was—as he rushed outside, yelling, “BYE!” as he went.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Paps turned to Edge. “what the hell was that? why’s he thanking you? you didn’t do anything.”

For a few seconds, Edge glared at him, looking about ready to snap and snarl. Then he took a breath and shook his head, as if he was shaking away an unwanted line of thinking. “You’re the older brother; you’re not going to get it without help, and I don’t have the time to explain it to you right now. After I deal with Red, I’ll be happy to go over every single one of your flaws in more detail. We’ll go alphabetically, starting with ‘abhorrent’. Until then, you’ll just have to enjoy some quiet self-reflection. Preferably far, far from here, but that seems like it’s going to be too much to ask.”

“fuck you too, jackass.”

Edge threw up a one-fingered salute, and started putting the living room back in order. He set the couch cushions back in place, smoothing out the lumps in the padding and the wrinkles in the fabric. Paps disappeared for a few minutes to grab a bottle of honey, and when he’d returned, the blankets had been crisply folded and stacked. All but one. The last blanket was instead draped almost artfully over the couch’s armrest. Edge tugged at the corner a few times, as if he couldn’t get it to sit exactly how he wanted. Paps raised a brow-bone at that, but he only looked away, uncomfortable, when Edge started to fiddle with the pillows, displaying an unnecessary degree of concentration and care.

He wasn’t an idiot. By this time, Paps had figured out that Edge tended to express his anxiety by ordering the space around himself. He shifted from one foot to the other, free hand playing with his lighter. He sipped his honey. His soul pulsed with empathy despite himself. He drew his hand out of his pocket. Rocked back on his heels. Pretended he wasn’t fidgeting. “so,” he finally said, speaking softly, “you’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”

“He’s got ten minutes before I start tearing the Underground apart looking for him.”

“uh.” Paps blinked. “you’d…you’d really do that? i mean, with your injuries and all, it doesn’t seem like a very good idea.”

“If it was your brother,” Edge said, pausing in his aggressive straightening, “wouldn’t you?”

“of course.” Paps didn’t mention that he was unlikely to be put in this situation with his brother.

“Then why do you think I’d be any different?” Before Paps could answer, the front door swung open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from my trip, and ready to write. Sorry for the cliffhanger--the next chapter is in the works, I promise. Hope you all are enjoying!


	7. There are no therapists in Underfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge does what's necessary, and Paps tries to understand.
> 
> Maybe they shouldn't have sent Blue away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning--this chapter is a little more intense than the others. I'll put the trigger warning in the end notes, so that those who don't want to be spoiled don't have to be, but those that have potential triggers can avoid them.
> 
> This fic is marked 'mature' for a reason, folks. Red's potty mouth is not the reason. (Not entirely, at least.)

Edge was incredibly relieved when Red stepped into the room, not just for his brother’s sake, but Paps’ too. The other skeleton was really starting to piss him off, and he didn’t want to do anything he might regret later. “What’s your status?” he asked immediately.

“cripes, boss, can’t i get inta the livin’ room before ya start grillin’ me?” he asked, strolling past with his hands in his pockets. As if he hadn’t just threatened to dust or dismember someone less than an hour ago. “heya, paps. boss been behavin’ himself?”

Paps glanced at Edge, not sure how to react to Red’s sudden shift of mood. “Runt,” Edge said, “‘answer the question.”

Seeing that Paps wasn’t going to play along, Red turned to Edge and held up both middle fingers. “yeah? well, here’s what i think of you an’ yer stupid fuckin’ question. ya shoulda let me dust that piece a’ shit.”

Well, at least he wasn’t playing ‘normal’ anymore. “You would have regretted it later. Status?”

“i wouldn’ ‘a regretted shit.” Red insisted, taking on a truculent posture—leaning forward, weight on his toes, and hands fisted at his sides. Edge observed him impassively. Distantly, he was aware of Paps’ presence against the sidewall, but he otherwise pretended that the other skeleton wasn’t there. This wasn’t his business, and Edge was still somewhat afraid that his presence would only make things more difficult overall.

“You really don’t think so?” Edge asked, “Tell me why he was running for Muffet in the first place, then. Do you even know how old he really was? No. Of course you don’t. You don’t know anything about that kid or his circumstances. You only know his stats—because that’s more than enough information to determine if someone should be allowed to live or not.” Had Paps just flinched?

Somehow, that was not surprising.

“sh-shut up!” Red snapped, backing away as he tried to disengage. “yer the one always goin’ on about keepin’ muffet’s shit off the streets. you n’ me ‘ve both see what it does ter monsters. tha’s a whole lot worse than a quick death.”

_(“I know you must by hungry by now, dearie. If you want to eat—if you want your pathetic little pet to eat—then you’ll do what I say. Ahuhuhu~”_

_“Watdaya wan’ me ta do?” Wimpering as a claw wrapped around his cervical vertebrae._

_“You can start by saying that again—properly, this time. Ahuhuhu~. Then, I’ve got a package for you to deliver.”)_

“Muffet’s errand boy is hardly the root of the problem, Sans. For that matter, neither is Muffet.” It was hard to fight a collection of socio-political norms that had become engrained in the culture decades, if not centuries, before they were even born. Fighting the lack of hope in their Underground was even worse, though. There was no reason to try, if you didn’t believe that things could ever change.

_(“why da ya even bother, boss? it’s fuckin’ pointless.”)_

Red glared up at him, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and hid his face in the ruff of his jacket. “No hiding, Sans. Jacket off.”

That made the runt jolt. “yer jokin’, right?” He tilted his head to indicate Paps. “ya really wanna do this here?”

“What’s your status?” he retorted.

“fuck you—what’s yer status, boss?” he snapped back.

“S and c,” he said, for ‘smoke and cinder’—a step worse than ‘s and r’, but not especially alarming. Frankly, Edge was almost always s and c. His answer caught Red off guard. He glanced at Paps; obviously he hadn’t expected Edge to reveal anything in front of the other skeleton. “Your status, runt. I’m not asking again.” Red searched his features, then hugged himself, still using the jacket to hide his face.

“a ‘n d,” he said. Ash and dust. Edge had known that, but he needed Red to admit it openly—freely—before he could act on it.

“Come here, then. Jacket off.”

Red looked between Edge and Paps. “we’re really gonna do this in front a’ him?”

“Well, I couldn’t get him to leave,” Edge said, arms crossed and glaring at Paps, “but you’re more than welcome to try.” Paps glared right back, though the scarred skeleton had to give him credit—he hadn’t tried to interfere yet.

“red, i don’t know what’s going on with you, but you know i’m here for you, right?” Well, at least he’d taken longer to intrude than Edge had expected.

“are ya?” Red asked, and Edge jolted, alarmed by his tone. He tried to catch Paps’ gaze, but the other skeleton was—probably deliberately—ignoring him. _Fucking hell, I knew this was a bad idea._

“of course, i am,” Paps said, ignoring Edge’s signal to stop talking and take a closer look at the smaller skeleton’s demeanor. Then again, even if he had noticed Red’s posture—too casual, too relaxed, too _ready_ —he probably wouldn’t realize what it meant.

“ya sure that ain’t just ‘cause ya think my hands ‘r clean?”

“what?”

Edge sighed, rubbing the ridge of bone between his brow-bones. “Red. Sans—don’t.”

Red was ignoring him now, his gaze fixed on Paps though his eyelights had nearly disappeared they were so dim. “i know how ya feel about ‘im,” Red said, jerking a thumb at Edge, “it’s not like ya’ve kept it a secret. i know ya think he’s nuthin’ but a thug. a killer. fell-verse trash. i got news fer you, bud—“

Keeping an eye on Red as he stalked toward Paps, Edge covertly opened his inventory and started sifting through its contents, searching. “he ain’t the one ya should be treatin’ like a rabid dog,” Red said, nearly growling, “oh, sure, boss don’ fuck around when its time ta throw down, but he’ll stop if ya surrender. he’ll knock ya down ta 1hp, an’ then, long as yer not stupid enough to keep fightin’ at that point, he’ll grant ya mercy.” He laughed, the sound low and devoid of any real humor. “me though? i don’ do mercy, and i don’ fight fair.

“so, paps? ‘r ya still “here fer me”? knowin’ i’m a thug ‘n a killer too? knowin’ i’m the same kind ‘a fell-verse trash as ‘im? just ‘cause my kr keeps me from gainin’ exp, don’ mean i’m anymore innocent than ‘im—and might be a lot less, if we’re bein’ honest.” If Edge wasn’t so pissed off at Paps right now, he probably would have felt sorry for him. The poor Tale monster was leaning away from the smaller skeleton, sockets wide and hands splayed as if he didn’t really know what to do with them.

Before things could escalate further, Edge lunged for Red, catching him by the hood. Red snarled, turning on him, but he managed to grab one hand and then the other, holding his wrists in one hand behind Red’s back. With his other hand, he pulled out a silk scarf—held in his inventory for just such occasions—and knotted it securely around Red’s ulnae and radii. “no!” Red snarled, struggling even though he had to know it was a futile effort, “damn it, boss! fuck off, would ya?”

“Not happening, runt.” Ignoring the protests of his ribs, he muscled Red away from Paps, who looked too stunned to do anything. Red struggled against him the whole way, spitting and hissing and— He yanked his arm back. “We’ve talked about the biting, Sans.” Red just snarled wordlessly, before he started spouting some very creative insults. Edge’s brow-bones slowly crept up. Wow. Some of those he’d never even heard before. “I’m beginning to consider instituting a swear jar,” he said, which only earned another round of imaginative invective. When Red finally ran out of breath, he asked, “Are you finished?”

“fuck off,” Red mumbled.

“I already told you—that’s not happening. Now, if I untie you, will you take your jacket off like a good boy, or do I have to cut it off?” Red went very still, and Edge experienced a moment of guilt for the threat. The smaller skeleton had made the jacket himself. It had taken him months to collect the necessary materials from the dump, ripping the stitches out of various items to harvest the fabrics he wanted. He’d worked hard on it, too, and took better care of it than he took care of himself, most days. Edge would never deliberately damage it, and Red knew that, but the threat was probably a step further than he should have gone.

“i’ll be good,” he said quietly. Edge looked him up and down, and repressed a sigh—Red had no intention of playing nice. Carefully watching Red’s mouth—he was not going to be bitten again—Edge drew the zipper down. He pushed the sleeves back, off of Red’s shoulders. Holding tight to one of his wrists, he freed the other, and pulled the sleeve off. Halfway done. He caught the newly freed wrist, and was not prepared when Red pulled the other hand from his jacket sleeve and hooked his clawed fingers into Edge’s scarred socket.

“Ngh!” It wasn’t really painful, per say, but it was definitely uncomfortable—very uncomfortable—and he couldn’t hold back the undignified sound. Red yanked on his socket, growling. Edge’s eyelights flared as he growled back, pushing magic into his fingertips. This wouldn’t wound, but it would sting. He skated his fingers over Red’s mandible, causing him to flinch back. His fingers slipped out of Edge’s socket, and Edge allowed himself a sigh of relief. He pursued as Red retreated, reaching for Red’s collar. Two fingers hooked it, and he twisted them, causing Red to choke.

From what Edge understood, this didn’t have the quite same effect on a skeleton as it did on a fleshy monster. It was certainly uncomfortable, and it restricted breathing, but it couldn’t do any permanent damage as it could to a fleshy monster’s throat. Red glared at him, but he stopped struggling, knowing it was a bad idea at this juncture. At least he’d slipped out of his jacket. Smirking, Edge said, “Good boy.” Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as—

He became aware of a low humming, and he looked up. “Oh for fuck’s sake!” he said, staring into the maw of an orange-eyed gaster blaster. At this point, he was honestly more annoyed than anything. Without a thought, he shoved Red behind him and stared down Paps. “You are making this so much more difficult than it needs to be!” Behind him, he felt Red’s magic sparking. “Put it away, Sans. Now.” He kept his gaze on Paps.

“boss,” he growled, “he’s got a blaster trained on ya.”

“I’m not blind, and I’ve got it under control. Turn it off. I will not repeat myself. You too, Swapshit.” The two lazy skeletons eyed each other. He couldn’t see Red, but he could guess what he looked like—sockets narrowed and mandible set, smiling like he was about to enjoy himself immensely. Paps, on the other hand, just looked lost. Edge would have felt sorry for him, if he wasn’t such a moron.

“red?” asked the taller skeleton, “he was hurting you.”

“heh. not half as much as i’m gonna hurt you if ya don’t get that blaster off my boss.” Slowly, the gaster blaster dissipated.

“i…i don’t understand,” Paps finally said, looking between them like he could find the answers written somewhere on them.

“Right. You _don’t_ understand,” Edge snapped, “So mind your own fucking business and let me do what I need to do.”

“red?”

“yer a tale-verse monster,” Red said softly, and Edge remembered that his brother respected Paps. Liked him. This had to be hard for the smaller skeleton. Showing Paps that he wasn’t just ‘a little rough around the edges’ was probably killing him. _Stars damn-it, Swapshit._ He was making it worse, and he didn’t even realize it. “yer not gonna get it.”

Magic sparked in Paps’ socket. “try, alright?” he demanded, desperate and confused, “’cause i’m not gonna be able to walk away if i think he’s hurting you!” Unwillingly, Edge softened a little at that. Sure, he was still pissed, but he could understand the sentiment. Paps might be an ignorant asshat…but he was genuinely concerned about Red, and Edge couldn’t really get upset with him for that.

Red didn’t answer, and Edge glanced back, seeing that the smaller monster had shrunk in on myself. He had pressed the side of his face into his shoulder, trying to hide despite missing his jacket. Gently, Edge guided him over and turned him around, so he was facing Edge rather than Paps. He stroked his coronal suture, knowing it would soothe the other monster. Red’s brow pressed into his hip, and Edge’s hand trailed from his skull to his cervical vertebrae. He looped two fingers beneath the collar, so there was pressure on Red’s neck, but he could still breathe freely.

Turning his attention back to Paps, Edge sighed. “Living in a Fell-verse,” he said slowly, trying to choose his words carefully, “is a little like walking a tightrope. Hold too tightly to your morals, and you’ll be lucky if death is the worst that befalls you. Let go too much, start putting survival over everything, and you’ll begin down a dangerous path. Every day, you must decide what price you’re willing to pay for survival. How much of yourself you’re willing to give up.” Red pressed into him, and Edge ran a soothing thumb over the cartilage between his vertebrae. “It’s very…stressful. Trying to maintain that balance. Keeping yourself, and those you care about, alive and healthy without sacrificing your soul.”

“sometimes,” Red said, voice a little muffled but still clearly audible, “it seems easier to just let yerself fall ta one side er the other.”

 _(“c’mon, bro.” Small hands wrapped around his larger ones, bringing them to a thin neck. “it’d be easy fer ya. yer strong enough. jus’ a quick twist, an’ then—“ Red tears tracking down his brother’s face. “c’mon, boss. i know you’d make it painless fer me. please, bro. boss._ papy. _please.” Holding down his horror, holding back the urge to yank his hands away and_ run _._

_“I’m glad you came to me, Sans. I’ll take care of everything.” Keeping calm and controlled. Taking care of everything.)_

He took a deep breath, holding back a wince when his ribs protested. “So, we help each other maintain our balance.” Paps looked between them, lost and shell-shocked. Edge’s soul twinged, and he cursed whatever part of himself it was that prompted him to try to take care of people. However, Paps was not his problem, and thankfully, his universe had provided him with plenty of practice ignoring the needs of other people. Red still needed him, and he was Edge’s priority.

He tightened his hold on Red and pushed him back until he could look him in the sockets. “Status?”

“same, boss. a ‘n d.”

“Do you wish to continue?”

“yeah.” A small hand reached up to squeeze his. “please, boss.”

“Do you need Paps to leave?”

Red glanced over at Paps, considering. Then he shook his head. “nah. i want ‘im ta stay. i think…i think he should see this.” Edge glanced first at his brother, brow-bone raised, then at Paps. Whatever Red had seen in the other monster’s expression to convince him of that utterly escaped Edge’s searching gaze, but really, this was Red’s decision to make. Red might call him ‘boss’, and Edge might be in the more dominant position, but this was for Red’s benefit; he was, ultimately, in charge here. If he wanted Paps to stay, then he could stay.

“If you change your mind at any time, tell him to leave and I’ll make sure he does.”

“thanks, boss.”

He turned to regard Paps. “If you’re going to play voyeur, you can at least be useful—hang up Red’s jacket.” He caught Red’s forearms again, this time without a struggle, and once again tied them behind his back. He stood in front of the smaller monster, lifting his chin to check his eyelights. They were focused and steady. Edge would need to break him down before he could build him back up again.

“What brought this on, runt?” he asked, slipping two fingers beneath the collar as he circled around to stand behind Red. “You were s and r this morning, weren’t you?” He wasn’t, but Edge needed him to admit that as well.

Red shivered. “i, uh, i may’ve lied ta ya, boss. i was s ‘n c. i’ve been s ‘n c since ya got hurt.”

Edge’s features hardened as he forced Red’s head to turn, so he could look him in the sockets. “You know how important it is that you’re honest with me in these matters, don’t you?”

“yeah, boss. i…i know.”

“Then you knew better than to lie to me. I’m going to have to punish you for that.”

“…i know….”

Until he knew what had brought this on, he wasn’t comfortable chastising Red overmuch. He could make it worse, if he wasn’t careful. “That will be for later,” he said, “Right now, I need to know what triggered this.”

Red squirmed. “why’re ya botherin’ with this, huh, boss? it’s—stupid. i’m jus’ bein’ a pussy. it’s nuthin’. i can handle it.”

Edge tugged on the collar, cutting off his air. Silently, he counted to three, a supportive hand resting on Red’s ribcage. “Don’t make me ask again, runt,” he said, leaning down so his mouth was right beside Red’s acoustic meatus. Red shivered.

“no, boss, really. it’s nuthin’—“

Another forceful pull on the collar, producing a choked sound from Red. In the corner, Paps bit back a protest, but Edge blocked him out. Unless or until he actually interfered, then he was free to do whatever the hell he wanted. “You’re not the one that gets to decide that, are you?”

“n-no, boss. m’ sorry,” he said, but he was shaking. Edge soothed the cartilage between his cervical vertebrae, and rubbed soothing circles into Red’s clavicle with his opposite thumb, that arm looped over Red’s chest to hold him up. “i jus’—i don’ know why yer botherin’ with me,” he mumbled, trying to hide his face. His breathing hitched as he tried to hold in his emotions. “’m not worth it. ‘m weak an’ small an’ i hold ya back an’—“ A full-fledged sob broke through Red’s control, and he folded in on himself.

“Easy, runt,” he said softly, but Red wasn’t listening anymore.

“ya got hurt ‘cause a’ me,” Red sobbed, “it’s always ‘cause a me. with undyne, an’-an’ _before—_ ” They only ever obliquely referred to Edge’s time with Muffet. That wound was still a little too raw for either of them to tackle head-on. “—an’-an’—” Red broke then, but Edge was there to catch him.

He knelt down and guided Red to lean against him, ignoring how it made his injuries ache. “Breathe, Sans,” he said, firmly but not unkindly. Red’s chest heaved as he verged on hyperventilating. “Can you feel my ribcage rise and fall? Yes? Good. Breathe with me, Sans. You can do it, brother. Just follow my lead. Yes. Like that. Very good. Just breathe with me.”

Red melted against him, and Edge held him up, held him close. He continued to whisper encouragement into Red’s ear. Then, when he’d calmed down enough to actually hear the words and not just the sentiment behind them, Edge said, “Good. Now, Sans, tell me—have you ever known me to waste my time?”

“n-no, boss.”

“That’s right. I am the very pinnacle of efficiency and good time management.” That earned him a raw chuckle. “So, I’m a little confused that you would think I was wasting my time on you.” He punctuated this with a tug on the collar.

“boss!” Red gasped out, but he didn’t add to the plea.

“Looking after you is not a waste,” he growled, speaking directly into Red’s acoustic meatus. “You’re the _reason_ I fight so fucking hard, Sans.” The last he whispered; that was not for Paps’ ears. Red shuddered against him, and Edge took pity on him, rubbing a gentle hand over his coronal suture. “As for me getting hurt—“ He pinched the cartilage between Red’s vertebrae, earning a yelp. “—are you implying that I can’t handle myself?” he growled, and Red frantically shook his head.

“no, boss; i know ya can take care of yerself, but i—“

“Shut. Up,” he hissed, “You think I can’t take it? You think I dragged us up out of the gutter just to run with my tail between my legs at the first hint of pain? I’ve had worse than this, and you damn well know it.” He pinched the cartilage again, earning a hoarse gasp. “I expect an apology, Sans. Now.”

“’m sorry, boss. i’m sorry fer doubtin’ ya. i didn’ mean it. i know ya can take it. i know ya can handle yerself. ‘m sorry.” When it became clear Red would keep apologizing until Edge put a stop to it, he tugged on the collar—not hard enough to choke, just to remind Red that it was there.

“That’s enough. Apology accepted.” He forced Red’s head to turn, so he could look him in the socket. His eyelights were hazed and unfocused. Gentler now, Edge ran a thumb along his mandible. “Now, what set this off? What happened?”

“i-i went ta the house,” he said, and Edge worked to keep his features blank. _Damn it, Sans. I didn’t want you to be alone for that_. “i know ya said not to—“

“I give you orders to protect you,” he said sharply, “not because I get off on it.”

Red flinched and said, very softly, “i know, boss. but i, heh, i knew ya’d be climbin’ the walls, havin’ ta wear the same pair a’ pants two days in a row. so i went ta the house…an’ everything was torn apart. the door’s kicked in, ‘n—“ He choked, looking liable to start crying again.

Carefully, Edge soothed the cartilage discs he’d been abusing. “It’s just a building, Sans; we don’t keep anything there that can’t be replaced.” The machine was safe—after Sans got it working, they’d moved it to one of his safe rooms, far off the beaten track and well protected. He was pretty sure it wasn’t the destruction of property that had Red so worked up, though. “Where is it, runt?”

“my jacket pocket.”

Of course. “Are you going to insult me by implying that I can’t handle it?”

“…no, boss….”

“Good, you’re learning. We’ll deal with that when the time comes. For now—is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“no, boss.”

Edge eyed him, some instinct telling him that there was more, but Red wasn’t giving him anything to work with. He raised a brow-bone, then said, “You’re sure?”

“’m sure.”

“Alright, then.” Part of Edge’s job was knowing when to let things go, and even though he was pretty sure there was something Red wasn’t telling him, he also suspected that pushing further would be a bad idea. He reached down to untie the smaller skeleton, and bit back a pained grunt when Red spun to burrow into his chest. It hurt, a little, but he’d sooner cut off a limb than let Red know.

He ran a soothing hand down Red’s skull and cervical vertebrae, the other hand pressing into his scapula as he held the smaller skeleton tightly. Like this, he was always struck by how small and frail his older brother really was. Silently, he renewed his vow to keep the other skeleton safe. Aloud he murmured soothingly, offering whatever reassurance he could. It wasn’t what he was good at. He always felt awkward and unsure at this juncture, but Red seemed to drink it in.

Over the top of Red’s head, he could see Paps leaning against the wall, his sockets wide and his eyelights almost entirely gone. Well. That was not Edge’s problem. At least, not right now. Slowly, Red’s grip loosened, and he started to pull away. “We’re not done yet, runt.” He tapped his ribcage as a reminder, then he glanced Paps’ way and asked, “Do you still want him here for this part?”

“y-yeah. i mean, unless he wants ta leave.” Edge raised a questioning brow-bone at Paps, who shook his head, though his posture made it look as if he _couldn’t_ leave, not that he didn’t want to. Fabulous. He’d somehow have to explain to Blue that he had—accidentally—broken his brother.

“Alright. Whenever you’re ready,” he said, focused on Red once more.

Red took a deep breath, closing his sockets. Then he manifested his soul. Paps gasped, but Edge just cupped gentle hands around the fluttering organ. It shook in his hands like a frightened bird, and as always, it looked battered and bruised, dim with lack of HoPe.

This part…. Edge concentrated, concealing his anxiety and deep-rooted insecurity from his brother. He used to be good at this. Once upon a time, he could easily project love and warmth and care, but somewhere along the line, he’d lost the ability. He wasn’t sure if it was a change in himself, or if it was due to his elevated LV, but the result was the same.

/Security/Control/Strength/Stability/

He did the best he could. /Control/ He knew it was inadequate. /Security/ He knew Red deserved better. /Stability/ But it was all he had to offer. /Strength/ Thankfully, Red never seemed to mind. /Stability/ His soul settled as Edge poured his intent into it. /Control/ The light it emitted grew warmer and brighter. /Strength/ With a final pulse—/Security/—he opened his hand and looked Red up and down.

“Status?”

“s ‘n c,” he said, voice a little slurred. He was loose-limbed and relaxed, sockets half-shut and skull drooping. At some point, he’d started purring quietly.

Edge took his chin and forced him to look up. “Good. Are you listening? Nod for me. Okay. I need you to go upstairs and get cleaned up. Get back down here in fifteen minutes, or I’ll drag you down here bareboned. You understand me?”

“yeah, boss. i got it.” His smile was a little hazy, but he didn’t seem to be too out of it. Edge was comfortable letting him out of sight.

“Get going, then. I’ll have food for you when you’re cleaned up.”

“thanks, boss.” Red straightened and went upstairs, looking a little unsteady, but that was normal. Soul magic was pretty powerful stuff. Edge waited until he heard the bathroom door shut and the water turn on to fold in on himself, letting his controlled façade drop. He just needed a couple seconds, that’s all.

He snared Paps’ wrist before the other skeleton could actually make contact. “Bad idea, Swapshit, deal or no.”

The other skeleton flinched, withdrawing until he could stuff both hands in his pocket. He wasn’t looking at Edge, and instead tugged uncomfortably on his hoodie’s hem. “you just looked—“

Edge’s sockets narrowed and he stood, biting back a groan as he did so. His ribs _ached_. Too bad—he had a job to do, and he wasn’t done yet. He could rest later. Pushing past Paps, he walked into the kitchen, ignoring the pain. “Blue won’t mind if I use his kitchen, will he?”

“are you going to burn it down?”

“No,” he said, mildly insulted.

“then you’re a better guest than alphys. he won’t mind.” Edge’s mouth twitched as he thought of his cooking lessons with Undyne. The superficial similarities between their universes were always at least a little amusing.

Paps sat down at the kitchen table, and Edge studied him out of the corner of his socket as he gathered the utensils and the ingredients required. He was loath to admit it, but he was honestly a little worried about the other skeleton. Was he…shivering? Without a word, Edge filled a kettle and put it on the stove to make tea, trying to decide what to do about his duplicate. He continued to shoot glances at him as he measured out sugar and oats and chopped walnuts. Hopefully, Blue would be back soon, or Edge was going to have to figure something out.

He didn’t like seeing that hollow-eyed expression on his own face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: suicidal ideation, ritualized violence, consensual asphyxiation, non-sexual BDSM, unhealthy coping mechanisms. Skip Edge's third flashback--starts with "c'mon bro"--to avoid the first trigger. The others saturate the entire chapter.
> 
> Those of you who made it through--that wasn't so bad, right? I made it sound worse than it really was--it's more fluff than anything. Underfell fluff just...has a bit of an edge to it. Hahaha. I'm punny.
> 
> Seriously, though, that third flashback is kinda uncomfortable. I'm sorry everyone.


	8. Oatmeal: it's not just for breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paps realizes a few things.
> 
> There is also fluff. Lots of fluff.

Paps shivered a little, considering everything he’d never thought about before. About Red. About Underfell. About being the Judge. About Edge. Red had tried to push Paps away, had confessed to being the same kind of Fell monster that he had always hated. Red had fought his own brother tooth and claw—literally—to push him away as well.

Because Red didn’t think he was worth caring for.

Paps shook his head, hating that idea. Hating that Red would feel that way about himself. Hating, too, that Red would think Paps was so easy to push away. Edge needed to be clawed at and bitten, too stubborn and unyielding for anything less—and even that, in the end, wasn’t enough. Meanwhile, Red thought Paps would reject him after a few harsh words. That hurt. Mostly because, looking back, Paps knew that he’d never given Red any reason to believe otherwise. He’d only ever treated Edge with scorn and petty hatred, based solely on the knowledge that he was a killer, a true Fell monster. And the assumption that he was the cause of Red’s chips and scars.

If Red didn’t believe himself to be any better, then _of course_ he would expect Paps to abandon him as soon as he revealed himself to be anything other than a poor, broken little skeleton in need of protection and care. Part of Paps wanted to feel betrayed or used, but he only felt sad. He’d failed Red. He’d always wanted to provide a haven for the Fell monster in this softer universe, but Red obviously thought he had to hide who he was to keep that protection. Paps had fucked up, and royally. Red deserved a safe place, a place he didn’t _have_ to fight tooth and claw—didn’t have to choose between losing his soul or his sanity or his life.

_fuck underfell._

His head dropped into his hands, and he scrapped his phalanges over the sutures in his skull. How were Red and Edge even remotely functional, anyway? Paps would have broken under the strain ages ago. What was it even like being Judge in a Fell-verse? What was it like to look around and see nothing but killers and brutes? To look at your brother and know he wasn’t any different? To know you failed him? What was it like to be Judge in a world absent innocence? How did Red manage to keep from falling down from sheer lack of hope? His world was unsalvageable. Irredeemable. The only good to come out of it was Red and—

_(Edge’s hands, which he had long considered to be weapons, cupping Red’s soul so very gently.)_

Paps dug his phalanges into his skull, wanting to scratch until marrow flowed. He glanced up, watching as Edge put a pot on the stove and poured out a careful measure of milk. Red was wrong. Paps may be a Tale monster, but he understood well enough the need for something—someone—to cling to. A pillar. A bastion.

( _Moments of déjà vu so strong they staggered him. Memories of yesterdays that never were. Memories of tomorrows that would never be. Not being able to trust his own mind. Holding tight to the few things he could be certain of._

_Honey to dull his senses. Nicotine to ease his anxiety. …? Pain…to help him focus…? Scars…to mark the passage of time? …but…his bones were unmarked. Had he ever—? Had Blue seen and stopped him or—?)_

It never happened. It never was. _s t o p  t h i n k i n g  a b o u t  i t._

“Hey!” Paps jumped and looked up into a pair of red eyelights. Edge stood across the table from him, his gaze studying. “Do I need to call Blue?”

“no!” It was his problem—he couldn’t burden Blue with it. “no. i’m fine.”

Edge’s brow-bone crept upward. “Right. I absolutely believe that.” He fished his phone out of his pocket. “What’s Blue’s number?”

Paps growled at him and closed his phalanges around Edge’s hand. “drop it, edgelord. it’s my shit, not yours.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Edge said, maintaining his sardonic tone, “is it annoying to have someone butt into your business uninvited? I’d have never guessed.”

“right. fine. i’m sorry, okay? it was none of my business and i should have left well enough alone,” he snapped, “is that what you want to hear?”

A beat of silence. “That was probably the worst apology I’ve ever heard—and I’m from Underfell. Are you done yet, or do you need someone to hold your hand still?”

“are you going to call blue?”

“I don’t even have his number, Swapshit, or were you not paying attention when I said that literally less than two minutes ago?” Paps studied the other monster before slowly releasing him. Edge drew his hand away and slipped the phone back into his pocket. All the while, he kept a considering eye on Paps. Stars, if he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was being Judged.

Paps decided to ignore it and instead took a long swig from his bottle of honey. Heat spread outward from his soul when it hit. “how’s your socket?” he asked after a few seconds, hoping to distract the other monster.

“My—?” Edge cocked his head slightly, brow-bones furrowed for a moment, before the confusion cleared from his features. “Oh,” he said with a dismissive wave as he turned back to the stove. Oddly, he measured out more milk and oats and added both to the pot. “It’s fine. I don’t have much feeling left in it anyway.” Paps watched him with wide sockets, a little disturbed by how casually Edge admitted that. As if losing feeling in such a delicate part of your body was unimportant.

It felt a little bit like he was looking at the monster through new eyelights. Seeing how delicately he’d handled Red—not to mention that flash of vulnerability, just a second before Edge pulled himself back together to start cooking—Paps couldn’t help but see him differently. There was still a portion of him, and not an insignificant portion, that refused to see this alternate self as a monster worthy of the same care and affection he would easily offer Red…but it had shrunk drastically. For the first time, he was looking at Edge as a person, and not as a focus for all the negative emotions he bottled up.

Of course, that didn’t mean Edge wasn’t an asshole. Paps was fairly sure no amount of stunning revelations would really change that.

Edge stirred nuts and brown sugar into the oatmeal, again adding more to his initial measurements. “Do you know if Blue keeps any dried fruit around? Raisins? Cherries? That sort of thing?” He glanced back, noting Paps’ expression. He rolled his eyelights, sighing. “Of course not. Why did I bother to ask?” he muttered. Then he started hunting through the pantry, arms crossed and foot tapping as he considered the shelves. “Aha!” he declared victoriously, “Found it!”

“what are you doing, anyway?”

“I would think that was fairly obvious,” Edge said as he measured out raisins. “Or are you unfamiliar with the concept of oatmeal? If so, you’re going to find the eggs absolutely baffling.”

“i know what—“ Paps sighed loudly. “stars on fire, fuckfell—i mean _why_? why are you making oatmeal at 4 in the afternoon?”

Edge paused for a second, then added the raisins. He stirred the oats, then tapped his chin thoughtfully as he considered Blue’s spice cabinet. When Paps had finally concluded that Edge just wasn’t going to answer, the scarred skeleton replied, “It makes Red feel better.” He set cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and vanilla extract on the counter.

“i thought that’s what the soul-fondling was about.”

Edge froze, his whole body going stiff. Then color flooded his cheekbones, and Paps had to bite down on a phalange to keep from doing something stupid. _fuck, he’s adorable like that_. “Don’t make this vulgar,” Edge snapped, though his voice wasn’t as steady as usual.

Still smirking, Paps held up a conciliatory hand. “easy, there, i didn’t mean anything by it. i’m just curious. that’s all.” Even as he said it, he was thinking of ways to make Edge blush again. He was too damn cute like that.

( _Heated bone under his phalanges. Edge with his face turned to the side, trying to hide his flush and failing. “you know how sexy you are right now, edgelord?”_

_“F-fuck off—“ A well placed nip to coax a more pleasing sound from him. “Ngh~!”)_

By now, he was pretty much used to Edge’s suspicious glare. He just smiled impassively and waited for Edge to relax—at least, as much as he ever did. Edge went back to his measuring, and Paps saw his joints ease further. “I don’t have time for anything more complicated,” he replied, and Paps could tell he wasn’t going to get a more thorough answer than that. As he watched Edge work, though, he couldn’t help but guess that this ritual wasn’t just for Red’s benefit.

Edge pulled out a bowl and cracked a few eggs against the rim. A splash of milk, some seasoning, and then he started whisking the eggs. He took the pot of oatmeal off the heat and covered it, then put a pan over the flame for the eggs. He’d healed enough that he’d regained at least a little of his typical grace, and Paps had to admit he enjoyed watching the other skeleton move—at least to himself.

In fact, as he watched Edge pour the egg mix into the hot pan, he recognized that Rus and Blue possessed some of that same grace, and even if Edge was typically more restrained, he had the same energy as the other two. They differed in how they channeled and displayed that energy, though. Blue and Rus were all enthusiasm and joy, uncontained and exuberant. Edge was aggression and rage, leashed and tightly contained. All of them possessed an unexpected thread of gentleness, however.

Paps shook his mind away from that line of thought. He didn’t like thinking that two of his favorite monsters had anything in common with one of his least, even superficially.

Edge glanced at the clock. “The runt’s got two minutes.” His phalanges drummed impatiently on the counter.

Recalling the threat Edge had made before sending Red off, Paps asked, “you wouldn’t really drag him down here bare-boned, would you?”

Edge looked back at him, brow-bone raised. “Try me.” Paps couldn’t help it—he snickered and looked away, shaking his head.

As if he’d been summoned, Red appeared less than a minute later…wearing a borrowed pair of Blue’s pajamas. They did not fit, even remotely, and the pastel blue paired with Red’s crimson magic and his scarred, sharp-toothed visage was too much. Paps snorted, looking the other skeleton up and down. “holy stars, you look ridiculous.”

That earned him a one-fingered salute and a surly, “fuck off. i fergot pajamas, okay?” Red looked at his brother and tossed something his way. Edge unballed the material and immediately pulled the black undershirt over his head, though the move had to pull painfully at his ribcage. “there’s a pair ‘a pants on yer bed, boss.”

Edge glanced at the doorway, but ultimately, he seemed to decide that his need for fresh clothing could wait. Instead, he circled his brother and looked him up and down. “Status?”

“still s n’ c, boss.”

“Good. Sit down. I’ve got scrambled eggs and oatmeal for you.” He turned away and started plating the food. Red moved to obey, then froze, staring at the puzzle board Blue had moved to the kitchen table.

“…uh, boss?”

“What?” he asked as he scraped oatmeal into a second bowl.

“are those kittens in flowerpots?”

“What are you—?” He turned, then sighed. “…saying ‘no’ is going to do absolutely no good, is it?”

“the blueberry got ya ta play puzzle with him, huh?” Red smirked, gold tooth glinting wickedly. “did ya enjoy yerself?” Edge huffed and crossed his arms, glaring down at his older brother.

“I was being _polite_ , you little—“

Oh, this was too good. Paps pulled out his phone. “i don’t know about that, edgelord. i didn’t hear any objections, and you look pretty pleased with the whole situation.” He held up his phone, showcasing the picture.

“ _When did you take that?!_ ” Edge demanded, though the answer was obvious enough.

With a laugh, Red grabbed the phone for a better look. “asgore’s hairy ass, boss. yer fuckin’ adorable.”

“i know, right?” Paps asked, staring straight at Edge and grinning sadistically. Edge just covered his eyes and grumbled under his breath.

“ya should’ve seen ‘im when he was a babybones,” Red said, still laughing, “he was—“

“Are you two done?” Edge demanded loudly. “Or do you not want food?”

Red immediately went still and stiff. “no! i mean yes! i mean—“ He delicately passed the phone back to Paps and, looking pleadingly up at Edge, said, “i’m done, boss. sorry.”

Edge glared at him but set a plate of food in front of him. “I hope your eggs have gone cold.” Paps snickered, until a plate and bowl were set in front of him as well. Then he blinked stupidly, looking between the food and Edge. “What?” the other skeleton demanded.

“is this poisoned?”

“You watched me make it, Swapshit.”

“yeah, but—“ He glanced at Red, who was looking at his brother curiously too. “why did you—?”

Edge crossed his arms and shrugged. “Eat or don’t. I really don’t give a damn.” He focused back on his brother, who hadn’t started eating yet either, despite his obvious eagerness. “What’s the matter, runt? Do you really think I’d poison you just to get back at him?”

Red smiled weakly, then shrugged. “yeah, probably, but—“ He looked away, then rubbed the back of his neck and said something too quietly to hear.

“Your mumbling is almost as tiresome as your insufferable puns,” Edge said sharply. Red didn’t say anything further until Edge sighed loudly and added, “I know my brilliant sarcasm can be hard to catch, but that was a very subtle clue that you need to repeat yourself if you want me to actually understand what you said.”

Red squirmed a little more, then he finally cleared his throat and asked, “will you eat with me?”

At first, it seemed like an odd request, then Paps remembered Edge’s little episode this morning. He’d eaten normally at lunch, but he’d still seemed to regard the plate suspiciously for a few seconds. He glanced at the edgelord now, and noted that he had tensed up again. “Red,” Edge said stiffly.

“please, boss?”

Edge looked away, arms crossed defensively. “…Fine,” he said airily, then drew a spoon out of the silverware drawer. He kicked a chair closer to Red’s, then settled beside him and rested his free hand on the back of Red’s neck, two fingers slipped under the collar. His hold was firm and secure, but clearly not painful. Red pressed his forehead into Edge’s side for just a second, then scooted closer, until he was flush against the other skeleton’s uninjured side. Strangely, Edge didn’t flinch at all when Red touched him, just responded by stroking his thumb over Red’s clavicle.

Despite his eagerness, Red didn’t touch his food until Edge took the first spoonful. When Red finally did eat, he shuddered, grin broadening. “thanks, boss. the only good thing about the fell verses is the food.” What in the world was he talking about?

Edge studied his own spoon. “I did wonder if it was a matter of where the ingredients came from or who prepared it. Good to know, I suppose.”

Red paused, then grinned up at Edge. “heh. hey, boss?”

“What?” Then Edge seemed to recognize the expression. “Red, no.“

“does this mean—“

“Sans!”

“—your food is made with LOVE?”

Edge face-palmed while Red cackled. “Asgore’s horns, that’s disgusting. I am never cooking for you ever again.”

“yer smiling.”

“I hate you so much,” he grumbled, voice muffled by his hand.

“love you too, boss.” That earned him a light smack on the back of the skull.

Paps had had enough. “alright, what are you two even talking about?”

Edge put his hand down, then shared a look with Red. Both turned to look at him, trying and failing to smile innocently. Teeth that sharp made any expression look at least a little evil. “nuthin’,” Red said, unconvincingly. He pointed to the plate of food. “what’s the matter, paps? ain’t ya hungry?”

Paps looked between the two, eyeing both of them suspiciously. Edge just pointedly took a bite of egg, smirking. “Pussy,” he said, when Paps made no move to eat.

He told himself he was not immature enough to be goaded into anything by petty insults. However, curiosity was another matter. Particularly after watching Red eat with obvious relish. He was probably going to regret it, but he had to at least take a bite. Remembering when Sans had forced him to try Rus’s spaghetti, he braced himself but, to his surprise, the flavor was actually quite good. Of course, not even Paps could fuck up oatmeal too badly, and his cooking was worse than Rus’s.

Then the magic hit him like a punch to his soul, and he inhaled sharply. It crackled through him like electricity, heating his joints and causing his soul to buzz excitedly. “ _holy stars!”_ he exclaimed, unable to help himself. He gripped the edge of the table, breathing a little harder than typical. The magic was harsh but in a good—really good—way. He shuddered and asked, “what the hell was that?”

“Fell-verse food hits a bit harder than you’re used to,” Edge said, smirking. Well, that was certainly an understatement. His low HP—more than Red and Sans’, but not by much—didn’t need to be replenished, and his low stamina made it difficult for his soul to absorb the excess, even though his magic reserves ran deep. The sudden influx of magic, stronger than he was used to, was simply more than his soul could handle. The excess had crackled along the magic nodes located at each joint, heating them and causing his bones to warm. It wasn’t dissimilar to what he experienced when he drank honey, but it was different too. Good, though. Very good.

Hesitantly, he took another bite. Since he was prepared for it this time, the magic incorporated more smoothly, but it still caused him to shiver. No wonder Red preferred Fell-verse food. Sockets half-lidded, he looked up to see that Edge was covertly watching him. He smirked a little, and Edge looked away, very lightly flushed. Just like Blue and Rus—maintaining a confident front, but always looking for someone to validate their proclamations of how great or magnificent they were. “thanks,” he said, still smirking, “i like it. even if it does have a bit of an _edge_ to it.”

Edge sighed and leaned back in his chair, though he kept a hand on Red’s neck. “I’d complain, but honestly, I’m just surprised it’s taken this long for the ‘edge’ puns to start.” Red took another bite of food, but he was watching his brother intently, gaze flicking between him and the spoon he held loosely in his other hand. If Edge noticed, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t miss it when Red pushed the plate closer to him, though. Edge sighed. “What is it, runt?”

“yer not eating, boss.”

“I’m not hungry. Besides, I made it for _you_ , you little cretin.” Red pushed the plate toward him more insistently. “You’re going to be unreasonable about this, aren’t you?”

“c’mon boss,” Red said, nudging him slightly, “ya said you’d eat with me.”

Edge rolled his eyelights and grumbled under his breath, but in the end, he took another spoonful. “Happy?” Red visibly relaxed, purring quietly. He leaned into Edge and sighed. Paps glanced from him to Edge, noting that despite his disgruntled rumbling, Edge was more at ease than Paps had ever seen him. His phalanges played lightly over Red’s cervical vertebrae, maintaining gentle contact. Even from across the table, Paps could feel the /Security/Control/Stability/Strength/ emanating from Edge. Coupled with the food, it was pretty intoxicating. Paps really had to focus to keep himself from purring quietly as well.

That almost-smile that Paps was coming to enjoy was back again, too.

He’d never seen either of them quite like this. Edge was always, well, _on edge_ , and Red…. Even on his best days, Red always seemed to possess an aura of anxiety. Paps had blamed Edge for that, thinking that Red couldn’t get any peace even in a domestic setting. Now, he realized that he was only half-right; Edge was the reason, but not the source. Every time Paps saw him, Red was safe in Underswap, but Edge rarely accompanied him, so Red couldn’t be sure of his brother’s safety. He was worried. For Edge. Just as Sans would worry for Rus. Or Paps would worry for Blue.

If Paps wanted to provide a safe place for Red, away from the brutality of his universe, then he would need to include Edge as well. That realization was not half as repugnant as it should have been—as it _would_ have been less than a day ago. He’d have to keep an eye on Edge, of course—he still wasn’t sure how to feel about Blue’s interest in the Fell monster—but….

( _Edge relaxed, half-smiling and sockets half-shut. Sure that he was safe. Red beside him, confident and at ease. Neither of them feeling the need to put up a tough front. Trusting._ Happy _. For once.)_

...the idea of keeping them both here, safe and protected, was more than a little appealing. It sent a pulse of heat through him that had nothing to do with the Fell-verse food.

For a while, they continued on like that: Red eating with obvious relish, occasionally nudging Edge to eat just a little more, and Paps watching both of them. All the while, Edge kept a hand on Red’s neck, fingers hooked beneath his collar. His hold was secure but gentle, assuring Red that he was there.

Finally, though, Edge had had enough. “No,” he said simply, when Red nudged him again. Red whined quietly, looking up at him with wide sockets. Paps actually recognized that look; it was the expression Blue knew he couldn’t say ‘no’ to. Edge was apparently made of sterner stuff. “I said no, runt,” he said stiffly. “I’ve had enough. You, on the other hand, have probably had nothing but monster candy and mustard today—don’t try to deny it; I _know_ you. Now, I’ve indulged your weird food fetish, but I’m done. Eat your damn oatmeal, and leave me out of it.”

“right, boss. i’m the one with food issues—“

“Sans. _Enough_.”

Red tried the puppy-dog eyelights for a few seconds longer, but Edge remained unimpressed. Then Red sighed. “fine, fine—but only because i know blue woulda flipped his shit if ya tried ta skip any meals.”

Paps eyed Edge, suddenly seeing the sharpness of his features in a new light. “you skip meals often, edgelord?”

Edge’s shoulders were tense, his eyelights dim. “None of your fucking business—either of you. Drop it. Now.” His free hand rested on the table, closed into a tight fist. Inexplicably, Paps had the urge to reach out and run a soothing phalange over his metacarpals. He resisted the urge, knowing that Edge would only hiss and spit and draw more tightly in on himself. Like the annoying cat in a particularly foul mood.

“alright, boss, geeze. i’m jus’ thinkin’ ya could use a little more meat on yer—“ Edge’s sockets narrowed, and he sent a pulse of magic from his hand straight down Red’s spine. Red choked on his words and leaned forward, trying to catch his breath. “fuckin’ stars,” he hissed. Paps watched intently, tense and ready to intervene as needed. Red didn’t really look like he was in pain, exactly. He didn’t appear to be enjoying himself either, but he wasn’t hurt.

What the hell had Fuckfell just _done_?

“Not. Another. Word,” Edge growled, “Not until you’ve finished eating. Nod if you understand. Good. Now, eat.” Red glared at him before offering a sardonic salute, but he obediently resumed eating, keeping silent. Edge looked up, noting Paps’ intent study. “You have something to say, Swapshit?”

Paps looked between them, seeing that Red was still purring quietly. “nah,” he said, then smirked and met Edge’s gaze. “just wondering how to get you to purr like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I probably shouldn't be posting this. I'm not super happy with it, but there comes a time when you just have to say "Fuck it" and declare yourself done so you can move on.
> 
> Just to clarify, because I cannot think of a way I could incorporate this into the story without breaking out the omniscient narrator, Paps only really remembers the resets in bits and pieces. Basically, he has moments were he can't tell his current reality from other timelines he's experienced. He doesn't know that there's a reason for it, though--he thinks its all in his head.
> 
> (You might also choose to believe that those little fantasies he keeps having about Edge are actually memories from past timelines that both of them have forgotten. Or they can just be fantasies. It depends on how sad you want to make yourself.)


	9. No one likes a tsundere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blue teaches a very important lesson, and Edge can give as good as he gets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in the footnotes.

“just wondering how to get you to purr like that.”

Edge froze and Red went completely still beside him. Lightly, he squeezed Red’s vertebrae, reminding him that he was _not_ a child, and he did not need the other skeleton to play big brother—

Red burst into laughter so hard he nearly choked. “fuckin’ stars, paps,” he said between snorts of laughter, “warn me next time, huh?” Edge rolled his eyelights and relaxed his grip, pretending he couldn’t feel his magic heating his cheekbones.

( _A pulse of magic shooting straight up his leg as Paps toyed with his ankle joint—)_ Damn it, that was a play for dominance, nothing more. Was that his game now?

Edge scowled, hoping that Paps would mistake his blush for an angry flush. Judging by his self-satisfied smirk, he did not. “Are you drunk?” Edge demanded. He studied the other skeleton, searching him for the telltale hints of malice that always accompanied such dominance displays. “It’s not even five o’clock yet.”

“it’s five o’clock somewhere.” The two lazy skeletons shared a look and the laughter kicked up again.

What. Even.

Edge leaned forward, rubbing the ridge of bone between his sockets. “Stars above, you’re both idiots,” he said on a sigh. Still, he covertly studied the other skeleton, disturbed by what he found in his features but more so by what he didn’t. Earlier, when Paps had initiated their little game, spite had bled off of him; Edge hadn’t even needed to look for it.

Now, though…. Paps and Red had settled down, though neither of them could repress the occasional giggle, and Paps looked amused, of course, but also—inviting? Curious? Judging by the very light flush across his cheekbones, so faint it was only evident on careful study, and the haze of his eyelights, he was either drunk…or possibly a little aroused.

_(A conjured tongue on warm bone—)_

_Stop it,_ Edge told himself firmly. _Drunk—he’s drunk. Let it go_. Even if Paps was aroused, it was probably _because_ he was drunk, at least in part. And if he found Red as attractive as Edge suspected, he might have been a little affected by their demonstration earlier. The ‘soul fondling’, as Paps had called it, could very well be construed as pornographic, particularly if the observer was unaware of the intent behind the magic Edge pushed onto his brother’s soul. He could feel his cheeks heating again, no matter how he tried to fight it down. His soul was humming too, with a mix of nervousness and intrigue that he chose to ignore.

He _refused_ to be attracted to this asshole. No. Never. Not happening. _No_.

The front door opened, and he was immediately at attention, gathering his magic in preparation for a fight. Just in case. Then Blue called out a greeting and he relaxed, replying, “We’re in the kitchen.” Paps eyed him curiously, but he didn’t say anything. Blue appeared in the kitchen doorway and looked between the three of them. His gaze lingered on Red, but otherwise, he didn’t indicate any particular concern for his alternate. Edge was grateful for that. Treating Red like he might break at any moment wouldn’t end well for anyone.

“Were you two nice to each other while I was gone?” Blue asked, looking pointedly at Edge and Paps. The two eyed each other, not entirely sure how to answer.

Red snorted as he scraped the bottom of his bowl. “depends on yer definition.”

“Papy! What’d you do?”

“what? why do you assume it was me? he’s—a jerk too.” Edge rolled his eyelights, while Blue just crossed his arms and gave Paps a Look. Edge very nearly smiled—he’d seen a nearly identical expression on Rus’s face.

However, he took pity on Paps, even if he was being childish. “Nothing happened,” Edge said, then he smirked cruelly. “Your brother’s just a little drunk. He’s started flirting with me, of all people.”

“Papy! It’s not even five o’clock yet! Is that true?”

Paps looked between Blue, Edge, and the honey bottle in his hand. “eh. maybe? a little?”

“Papy!”

Edge smirked, settling back as he got ready to watch Blue tear Paps apart. “uh-oh, paps, ya went and pissed off the blueberry,” Red said. That little comment earned him a two-fingered tap to the top of his head. He rubbed the top of his skull and glared at Edge. “what was that for?” he demanded. Edge just glared back until Blue caught his attention.

“Edge? Was Papy being inappropriate? Did he make you uncomfortable?”

He blinked, not really prepared to answer that question. His features heated a little bit as he tried to consider his feelings on the matter—which, honestly, why did his feelings matter to Blue anyway? Who asked questions like that? “No?” he said, then tried again, trying to make it sound less like a question and more like a statement. “No. He didn’t—I mean, I’ve certainly heard worse. It wasn’t even…bad, really. It was just weird. He doesn’t—“ He looked more fully at Paps, deciding he actually did want an explanation for this. “You don’t even like me. Why would you—?”

Stars, he was more flustered now than he was when Paps started flirting with him. The other skeleton studied him, and his perma-grin took on a lazy, self-satisfied cast. “what can i say, edgelord?”

“Let me guess—I bring out the worst in you?” he suggested flatly.

Paps’ eyelights flared. “well, yeah, but i was going to say you’re cute when you’re all flustered like that.” Red almost face-planted in his empty plates he started laughing so hard.

“mercy,” he begged between gasping laughter, “stars, paps, yer killin’ me here.” But…Blue wasn’t laughing, and neither was Paps. There was no trace of malice in his gaze, either.

 _(“Look at you; aren’t you_ cute _~? Ahuhuhu~” A clawed hand on his cervical vertebrae. “I’m going to love watching the innocence go out of your eyes.” Whimpering. “Shhh, dearie. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. You’ll thank me one day. Just remember; it could have been worse. There are monsters out there that wouldn’t bother to break you gently, like I will._

_“Now, summon your magic. It should only take one hit. I’ve already brought down his HP. If you want to survive in this world, you can’t afford to be cute. Kill him now, or neither you nor your little pet will get fed tonight. It’s your choice, dearie~.”_

_He summoned his magic.)_

Just because he couldn’t see the ill intent didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He growled and leaned forward. “First off,” he snarled, “I was not flustered; your drunken rambling caught me off guard. Second, I am not _cute_. In any circumstance.”

“I don’t know, Edge,” Blue said, stepping closer. “I think you’re pretty cute.” He leaned forward, standing on his tiptoes—and lightly clacked his teeth against Edge’s cheekbone. As he pulled away, Edge felt his magic heating his cheekbones, and Blue lightly pressed a phalange against the spot he’d just kissed. “Especially when you blush like that.” Then Blue stepped back, smiling sweetly. He turned to his brother and said, smiling, “See, brother? If you’re trying to show someone you like them, then you need to be nice to them.”

“Hng?” It was the most articulate noise Edge could manage at that moment. Paps had frozen completely, sockets wide. Edge kept expecting them to narrow and Paps to lunge for him, but he only stared at his little brother like he’d never seen him before. While the two Papyruses were, largely, too stunned to react, Red was not so paralyzed.

He looked between Blue and his younger brother and smirked. “heh. smooth, blueberry. very smooth. i didn’t know ya had it in ya.” He held out his fist, and Blue regarded it with his head cocked slightly. Then, hesitantly, he fist-bumped the other monster. “ya been practicin’ yer moves er what?”

There was a definite gleam in Blue’s eyelights as he declared, “Oh, yes. Rus and I have been sharing our best techniques.” Red froze, and a faint blush appeared on his cheekbones. Edge came back to himself a little and chuckled maliciously.

“Rus, hmm? Oh, now that’s interesting. Very interesting.”

“shut up!” Red hissed, elbowing him sharply. That wasn’t enough to stop Edge from snickering as his brother attempted to adopt a cool, unaffected posture. “so, rus, huh?” he said, “does he—? i mean, i didn’t think he’d be, uh, in’erested in anyone. so, uh, is he? in’erested? in someone?”

“Asking for a friend, runt?” Crimson eyelights glared up at him.

“boss, i swear, i will re-organize all the books in your bookshelf if you don’t. shut. up.” Edge snorted and knuckled the top of his brother’s skull, earning an indignant squawk.

Blue looked between them, his grin warm and affectionate. Edge felt suddenly self-conscious under that gaze, but at the same time, he didn’t want Blue to look away or to stop regarding him with such unaccustomed warmth. Blue’s kiss had been sweet and chaste, but was somehow far more intimate than any of the blatantly sexual things he’d done with other monsters. His soul still pulsed with a mix of intrigue and longing as a result.

Ruthlessly, he crushed those feelings. He could accept being attracted to Blue. After all, the other monster was strong, clever, and very capable. Were he a different kind of monster, he’d be a formidable opponent—witness Razz, who had all of Blue’s strengths but non of his goodwill—but as a partner…. Edge couldn’t deny that the idea was appealing, but there was no point in pursuing that line of thinking. While he could admit to an attraction to Blue, he would never act on it. Not because Blue was too ‘innocent’. Not because Paps would likely kill him—or at least, he’d _try_.

How twisted was it that part of him actually looked forward to that fight?

No, he wouldn’t pursue Blue because the smaller monster didn’t deserve all the Fell verse baggage that Edge carried with him. Even being in this universe—or the other Tale verse—made him feel dirty. Like he would taint the place with his very presence. What was it Paps always said? Edge brought out the worst in him. So far, Edge didn’t have any reason to believe that wasn’t true.

In any case, given his own reaction to Blue’s flirting, he should probably stop teasing Red about his crush on Rus. Even if it was hilarious. Particularly since Rus’ Sans was such a dick about the whole thing. Watching the runt’s duplicate harass him was probably one of the funniest things he’d ever seen. Then again, if Rus really was interested…. Well, Edge could probably be persuaded to keep Sans occupied for a little while. It wouldn’t do for the creampuff’s brother to keep Edge’s duplicate all virginal and unsullied forever. Honestly, it was kind of embarrassing.

Blue started gathering the empty plates, breaking into Edge’s thoughts. He started to stand so that he could help, a little embarrassed that he had just _left_ them there, even if he had been somewhat occupied. It was his mess—he should be the one to clean it up. Gently, but firmly, Blue pushed him into his seat. “You’re a guest,” he reminded the other monster.

“But—“

“Edge, you aren’t insulting my hospitality, are you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then sit, and let me take care of it.” Slowly, Edge allowed himself to settle into the seat. Red raised a brow-bone but, thankfully, didn’t comment. “Besides,” Blue said, “I was hoping you and Papy could go pick out a board game. Now that everyone’s here, I thought we might have an impromptu Game Night.”

Paps shrugged, still looking at his brother as if he was seeing him for the first time. “sure. why not?” Red too shrugged, not interested enough to pursue the subject but not disinterested enough to dismiss it.

“Edge?”

“What kind of game?” he couldn’t help but ask, unable to suppress the suspicion in his voice.

Blue just kept smiling sweetly, ignoring his wary tone. “I’m sure you and Papy can find something everyone will enjoy. There’s a chest full of them in my room. Papy can show you.”

Paps and Edge regarded each other warily. Then Edge glanced at Blue, sockets narrowed. The pipsqueak was up to something, though he wasn’t sure what. He didn’t _think_ it was malicious; despite his life experiences up to this point, he had to concede that Blue seemed to be genuinely nice. However, that didn’t mean the small monster was above gently nudging pieces into place. The question was—what was his aim?

Edge didn’t know. He thought, maybe, Blue wanted the chance to speak to Red without the other two hovering. Possibly, he was trying to give Edge and Paps a moment alone…for some reason. Or maybe he genuinely thought that it would be best to send Paps and Edge to choose a game, since Red would be too apathetic, and if either Paps or Edge were left to their own devices, they’d deliberately pick out something to annoy the other monster. Actually, the more that he thought about it, the more likely the last option seemed.

Well, Edge was willing to play along, whatever Blue’s aim was. He wasn’t quite prepared to trust Blue. Not fully. He’d allow him the opportunity to prove himself trustworthy, though, or untrustworthy, as the case may be. Sometimes a monster just needed enough rope to hang themselves with. In either case, Edge would figure out Blue’s true intentions soon enough. “Fine.” He stood, bracing himself against the table when his ribs protested.

“need help there, edgelord?”

“I’m fine,” he said through grit teeth, ignoring the hand Paps offered. He just needed a minute. The pain faded after a few breaths, and he straightened fully. “Well? Lead on, Ashtray.”

Paps gave him a curious look. “what, did you decided to retire ‘swapshit’?”

“No. It offends your brother, so out of respect for him, I won’t use it in his presence.”

“I’d really prefer it if you two would use each others’ names,” Blue said, sounding both fond and exasperated.

“well, that’d be pretty confusing, bro. since we’re both named papyrus.”

“You know what I mean, Papy.”

“Yes, well, you can’t always get what you want, pipsqueak. I think I can manage to tolerate your brother, but asking me to respect him is a bit much.”

“same.”

Blue gave a put-upon sigh but didn’t comment further. Red was not so restrained. “behave yourselves,” he said as they left, imitating Blue, “nothing violent or lewd.” Then he cackled, dropping the imitation to say, “that means no fighting or fucking!”

“Red!” said Blue, “Don’t be inappropriate—and please watch your language.”

Edge just shook his head, too used to his brother’s antics. “Next time you start creeping on Rus,” he said, “I’m just going to let Sans deck you.” They left Red sputtering indignantly while Blue giggled into his hands.

Paps led him upstairs, completely silent except for the faint _tic-tic-tic_ as he toyed with his lighter. Edge followed a few paces behind, keeping his distance. “You’re being oddly quiet,” he observed as he stepped into Blue’s room. “Not going to threaten me?” he asked, “Order me to stay away from your brother? I thought you didn’t want him to learn anything that I had to teach.” He held himself apart from Paps, watching him carefully. Looking for any sign of oncoming violence.

There was none. Paps was just studying him, an odd glint in his eyelights as he leaned against the door, now closed. Edge’s hand curled into a fist; he felt trapped. “i’m just surprised. the only monster he’s ever shown any interest in is Napsttaton. and i’m not sure calling a boxy robot ‘sexy’ actually counts as interest.”

Edge snorted as he turned to regard Blue’s room, holding in a pleased sigh as he took in the neat and ordered space. The bright colors—a mix of blues and yellows—while not to _his_ taste, suited the smaller skeleton. It felt like Blue’s room, and there was something…soothing about that. “How flattering,” he said wryly, “The robot’s sexy. I’m ‘cute’, apparently.”

Paps actually chuckled at that. Edge’s gaze caught on the bed, and he went still. Then he smiled and stepped closer, drawing a hand over the racecar’s sideboard. “okay,” Paps said, “now you’re being creepy. not cool, dude.”

Edge yanked his hand back as if he’d been burned, closing his hand into a fist. “I wasn’t— Ugh. I was thinking about something else. Not _that_. Why must you make everything vulgar?”

Arms crossed, Paps studied him, and Edge felt his soul pulse nervously. “what were you thinking about? i don’t think i’ve ever actually seen you smile.” As Paps spoke, Edge had drawn in on himself, magical sinews coiled and ready. Still, he searched Paps for the telltale signs of malice, and he just couldn’t find any. _That doesn’t mean it’s not there_ , he reminded himself.

A test was in order.

Hating himself—pretending he didn’t, pretending his soul wasn’t crawling with self-revulsion—he forced his limbs to relax. He smirked and cocked his pelvis just so. Paps noticed the chance in demeanor immediately, his body visibly tensing. His eyelights flicked over Edge’s form rapidly, as if he was trying to take in everything at once. His sockets had gone wide even as his eyelights hazed further. Edge sauntered toward him, concentrating on hiding every trace of pain in his gait. “what are you—?”

Edge planted a hand on the door above Paps’ shoulder and leaned into his space, forcing his smirk to widen as Paps pressed himself into the door. “I’ll make a deal with you,” he said, allowing his voice to drop to a husky rumble, “I’ll tell you what I was thinking about, if you tell me how to make _you_ purr.” Paps’ breathing was unsteady, his eyelights over-bright. Warm orange magic dusted his cheekbones. Edge heard him swallow.

There was still no hint of malice in his features, only surprise and disbelief…and what was unmistakably arousal. _Impossible_. His flirting and his questions couldn’t possibly be genuine. He was only trying to put Edge off his guard, trying to gather information to use against him, trying to establish a dominance hierarchy. Essentially, what Edge was doing right now. “how to—?” Paps asked, his voice unsteady.

“What’s the matter?” Edge asked, adding a low, rolling chuckle at the end of his question. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” Amazing how a change in tone made all the difference. When Blue had asked him that question, it was obvious he meant it genuinely—he was actually concerned for Edge’s comfort. When Edge asked, it was a challenge.

Stars, he felt sick. His soul crackled and buzzed, disturbed and upset by his own behavior. Because if Paps was being genuine…then Edge was using Fell-verse tactics against a Tale-verse monster for no justifiable reason.

“n-no.”

 _Liar_. Remorse stirred in his soul, but he didn’t allow a hint of it to show on his face. He was good at hiding that particular emotion. “I don’t just hand out personal information for free, Swapshit. I’ll show you mine, but you have to show me yours first.” Did Paps just squeak? In other circumstances, that might have been either amusing or adorable, but right now, he wasn’t in a state to appreciate it. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

Still breathing a little too fast, a little too shallow, Paps said, “i’m, uh, pretty easy to please, honestly. earlier, between the food and the, uh, intent you were putting out, i was pretty damn close to purring.”

Edge blinked and tried to ignore the sudden self-satisfaction that rolled through his soul. “You could sense that?”

“pal, i don’t know if you realize this, but your magic isn’t exactly subtle.” Well, that was fair, he supposed. “so? what were you thinking about earlier?”

Ah. Edge pulled back, dropping his posturing. He hadn’t actually expected that he would have to answer this question. He’d assumed Paps would push him away or refuse his deal; that’s how it would have gone down in Underfell. How it would have happened if Paps was just trying to put him off his guard. _It doesn’t mean that’s not what he was doing; it just means he’s not very good at it._ Looking away, he crossed his arms and, giving Paps the side-eye, asked, “Sure you wouldn’t rather know how to make me purr?”

Paps cocked a brow-bone, taking in his altered demeanor. “not now. now i’m curious.”

 _Damn it_. Well, he’d brought this on himself. Taking a moment, he walked over to Blue’s bookshelf and began pushing the books so that all the spines were even with each other. A few were out of order, so he put those back where they belonged. “When we were children, after—“ He gestured loosely, and Paps winced. So this universe wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, then. He wondered how their experiences compared. “—you know, Red and I found a small cave to hide out in. It wasn’t much—a literal hole in the wall, really, but we were relatively safe and relatively free.”

Honestly, it was the closest thing to a home that they’d ever had, before or since. “Well, we were young and very nearly obsessed with the surface. You know how children are. Red was particularly interested in the stars, but I was always intrigued by humans and their inventions. Cars in particular. I think I liked the symbolism of them more than anything.”

He straightened the last book and turned around to face Paps, though his arms were still crossed protectively. “So, one day, Red drags this box into our cave, as well as some broken crayons he’s scavenged from the dump. I ask him what he’s doing, and he gestures to the box and says, ‘can’t ya tell? it’s a racecar, paps.’” He paused. “Don’t look so shocked; I wasn’t always ‘boss’, Swapshit.”

He took a breath before he continued. “Anyway, we spent the rest of the day decorating this stupid box so it looked like a racecar. Then when it was time to go to bed, we piled all our blankets inside and slept there. It’s a pleasant memory. That’s why I was smiling.” He looked away. “Underfell isn’t always a complete hellhole. There are bright spots.” He cleared his throat. “Aren’t we supposed to be picking out a game or something?”

Paps blinked, as if coming out of a trance. “uh, yeah. they’re—“ He seemed to remember Edge’s injuries and went to the chest at the foot of Blue’s bed. He pulled out various board and card games. They sorted through them, bickering good-naturedly—for the most part—over the merits and pitfalls of each game. Eventually, they settled on something innocuous but intriguing—and unlikely to bring out Edge and Blue’s competitive streaks—and brought it downstairs.

Blue was waiting for them with popcorn and orders to change into pajamas, since Red was already in his (borrowed) set. Edge didn’t have any either, but Red had brought sweatpants for him to change into, so that would do. Blue had already set up an area around the coffee table, though he hadn’t gone so far as to create a nest as before.

Late in the evening, he produced a pizza for everyone. Edge’s soul was still a little too unsettled to eat properly, so he just picked at his slice, though Red kept elbowing him. When no one was looking, Edge swapped his plate for Red’s empty one, despite his brother’s glare. He’d get over it. Blue was too engrossed in the game to notice, though, and Paps…. Well, Paps had been shooting him these odd, considering glances all night. He really didn’t know what to make of it. Or of him.

When they were about halfway through the game, Red leaned against him, and Edge pushed at him lightly, “Get off of me, runt.”

“you’re comfy,” the smaller monster murmured sleepily.

“I am not, you filthy liar. You’re just trying to figure out my strategy.”

“boss. it’s a game of chance. there is no strategy.”

“That’s what you think.” Rather than argue further, Red burrowed closer, curling up with his head on Edge’s femur. “Runt, don’t you dare go to sleep.”

“…and he’s gone,” Paps observed as Red started snoring quietly. Blue hopped up immediately and tucked a blanket around the two of them, patting Red on the head as he did so. He smiled up at Edge, though the larger monster just regarded him stiffly, unsure what to do with himself. Blue returned to his spot and the game resumed. After a moment of deliberation, it was decided that Edge would just take his brother’s place and continue to move his piece across the board, in case Red woke up.

Though, when Red’s piece reached the end first—all without Red waking—a brief debate broke out as to whether or not that counted as a victory for Edge or a victory for Red. Blue, still hyped and energetic, suggested another round, but Paps shook his head, yawning. “nah, bro. time for bed. red and i can’t keep up with you, and i think the edgelord could probably do with some sleep, even though—“

“I’m fine.”

“—he won’t admit it.” Paps smirked as Edge scowled.

Blue drooped a little in disappointment, but then he perked up. “Will you read Peek-a-Boo with Fluffy Bunny?”

“’course i will bro.” He eyed Red and asked, “think we should wake him to bring him upstairs, or just let him sleep on the couch?”

Edge’s hand tightened protectively over Red’s shoulder. “He’s staying with me tonight,” he said with finality. Red was s and r again, but he would be vulnerable to nightmares tonight. Edge needed to be there if he woke up in a panic. He glared at Paps, expecting an argument, but the other just held up a hand.

“sure. if you’re cool with it. that bed’s pretty small.”

“So is he. We’ll be fine.”

“you need help? he’s pretty hard to wake once he’s out.” Edge raised a brow-bone, and Paps winced a little. “right. you probably knew that.”

“I’ve developed a relatively effective technique. Observe.” He reached behind him to grab a pillow off the couch and laid it over Red’s skull, pressing down. When his air was cut off, Red started to shift, then began struggling in earnest only a few seconds later. Edge lifted off the pillow, fending off Red’s indignant punches with a smirk.

“damn it, boss!” he snarled, wrapping the blanket around himself like a cloak. “why the fuck are you such an asshole?”

“Must run in the family.” Red glared at him and swept toward the spare bedroom, muttering darkly under his breath. When he reached the door, Edge said loudly, “Go brush your teeth, runt. You’ve already got enough gold in your mouth.” Red slammed the door, but emerged a few seconds later, without the blanket, and marched upstairs to do just that. He was still grumbling.

“Edge, that was mean,” Blue observed.

Edge just shrugged. “I said it was effective—I didn’t say it was nice.” Good. Maybe now the pipsqueak would stop looking at him all starry-eyed and hopeful. Standing gingerly, he followed Red upstairs to get ready for bed as well.

Behind him, he heard Paps say, “Blue, remind me not to complain about how you wake me up in the morning ever again.”

Red had forgiven him for the rude awakening by the time they’d finished their nightly routine. As they descended the staircase, Edge could hear Paps’ voice as he read to Blue—the words were not distinct, but the soothing cadence and the warmth in his tone made Edge pause midway down.

( _“It’s a kid’s story.” An unspoken apology. “It’s, um, it’s all I can do right now, but Muffet’s teachin’ me. She’s…she’s not all bad, brother. She says I…we…can be more’n gutter trash.” Fitting himself beside his older brother. Checking his eyelights to see if he was even aware of the smaller body beside his own. No sign of recognition. “Okay, um—“ Reading haltingly and hesitantly. Ignoring the wetness around his sockets.)_ He wondered, sometimes, if Red remembered that. His memories from that time had always been a little hazy.

Shaking the thought away, he continued down the steps and met Red in the spare room. “Report,” he ordered, before Red could get too comfortable.

Red slumped where he stood, head thrown back, and groaned dramatically. “c’mon, boss. can’t this wait ‘til mornin’?”

“Do you really want to do this in front of Swapshit and the pipsqueak?”

Red flinched. “point taken.” He rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles—Edge flinched instinctively—before settling into a formal stance. Spine straight, hands clasped behind his back, gaze focused straight ahead, and feet slightly apart. He launched into his report, skipping his more creative phraseology to deliver unornamented fact.

Most of it wasn’t especially surprising. Edge already knew that Muffet was trying to re-establish her ties to the Ruins. Doggo, thankfully, hadn’t immediately resumed his drug habit, now that Edge wasn’t there to look over his shoulder. Greater Dog had stirred up a bit of trouble, trying to prove he could lead the dog pack in Edge’s absence—and potentially wrest control of Snowdin from him when he returned. The Dogi had knocked him around a bit, and now the Dog Pack was a cohesive unit again. Edge would need to find some sort of treat for the Dogi when he got back—and an appropriate punishment for GD.

The biggest surprise, he found, was that everything seemed to be running fairly smoothly in his absence. When Undyne had assigned him to that post five years ago, the whole place had run on Wild West rules. Even for a Fell verse, it had been bad. Edge had taken the reigns, though, and had tried to shape it into something that resembled a functional community, rather than a free-for-all. He’d expected it to devolve at the first sign of weakness on his part. After all, the Great and Terrible Papyrus was not a beloved figure, but a feared one.

A small part of him warmed. Maybe the people of Snowdin actually appreciated being able to walk down the street without being dusted for EXP. Perhaps they weren’t as hopeless as he’d always feared.

As Red finished speaking, he hesitated a moment before dropping out of the formal posture, and Edge was again struck by the knowledge that Red was hiding something. “What is it, runt?”

“it’s nuthin’, boss. just whispers.”

Edge raised a brow-bone. “Since when are rumors ‘nothing’?” he asked, “We live or die on public opinion. Whether we like it or not.”

Red scratched the back of his neck. “’s not our necks in the noose this time, boss.” Edge waited. Eventually, Red caved. “it’s about undyne. ya may’ve lost the fight, but ya gave as good as ya got. people are talkin’.” He paused, eyelights glinting. “they’re saying ya could take over the guard, if ya wanted. ‘specially now.”

It felt like a cold hand had gripped the base of his spine. “What?”

“fleshy monsters ain’t as resilient as us skeletons,” Red said. He held up a hand. “let’s just say fish-face’s pirate cosplay ‘ll be a lot more authentic if she gets the right replacement.” He crooked his fingers so they were shaped like a hook.

_(Another strike to his chest. Pain. Pain! PAIN! A hand hefting him up by the front of his armor. Snapping his teeth and catching something between them. Tasting blood and dust. A scream. A fist driving repeatedly into his side. Feeling his already cracked ribs splinter. Biting down harder and channeling intent into the act—willing whatever was in his mouth to break, to shatter, to T U R N  T O  D U S T._

_Another scream. Suddenly finding himself flung through the air. Pain as he struck the ground. Magic and marrow mixing with the snow. Getting slowly to his feet, even as a small hand caught his. “c’mon, boss. let’s_ go _!”)_

Oh. Stars. Had he really forgotten that? Or had he purposefully pushed it to the back of his mind, unwilling to think on it?

“boss? ‘r ya okay?” Edge didn’t answer. He brought a hand to his skull, noting absently that the appendage was steady. Even though he was screaming internally. “boss? what’s yer status?” Red asked, sounding a little more alarmed.

Edge sat on the bed and met Red’s gaze. He closed his sockets and went through a mental checklist. He was safe. Red was safe. He was injured, but he’d bargained for their protection, and he trusted Paps with Red’s safety, if not his own. Did it matter that he’d maimed what was, arguably, his best friend?

~~Yes! Yes, of course it mattered! She had done so much for him, for both of them. She had taught him control and order and discipline. She’d taken the shattered pieces Muffet had discarded and built him back up into a new monster. They fought side by side. They watched each other’s backs. They had semi-disastrous cooking sessions together. They watched anime together and pretended it was about strategy when it was really just about sitting quietly next to another monster and knowing that they weren’t going to hurt you—~~

No. No, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t afford to let it matter. “S and c,” he said. He reached out, but let his hand hover beside Red’s mandible without making contact. “May I?”

“yeah, boss. ‘course ya can.” Edge pressed a phalange against Red’s jaw, tilting his head first to one side, then the other. The bone was chipped in places, and there was a small crack in one eye socket, not nearly as prominent as Edge’s own. He lifted Red’s chin to study his vertebrae, noting that the cartilage wasn’t as supple as it should have been. There was a small crack across one collar bone.

_(“uh, boss? not that i’m complainin’ er anything…but what ‘r ya doing?”_

_“Reminding myself what I’m fighting for.”)_

Edge was still mentally screaming. His soul still hummed and crackled with upset energy, but he could hold it together. He had to. Red needed him to be strong. Unshakable. Unassailable. He couldn’t fall apart, no matter how badly he wanted to. “Is that why you threatened to cut off that kid’s hand? To make me feel better?” he asked, forcing himself to smile slightly.

Red smiled tentatively back. “maybe a little. Also, he was a little snot that didn’t know how ta keep his mouth shut. someone needed ta shake ‘im up a bit. knock some ‘a the snark outta him.”

“You realize most people say the exact same thing about you, correct?”

“yeah, but…i’m funny.”

Edge shook his head, trying not to grin. “Not half as funny as you think you are, runt. Is that everything?”

“ya mean aside from ass-gore’s note?” Edge nodded. He already knew what that said; he didn’t need to read it. “nah….” Red hesitated.

“Go on. You’ve obviously got something to say.”

“just…thinking.” Edge bit down on the various comments he could make and waited for Red to continue. “why doncha?”

“Why don’t I what?”

“take undyne down.” Red’s eyelights flared. Edge shook his head, disengaging, even as Red continued. “ya could do it, boss. ‘specially if we get ‘er before alphys has a chance to hook ‘er up with some kinda robotic arm.”

“No. This isn’t up for discussion. Go to bed.”

“boss—“

“I said no, Sans.”

Red’s sockets narrowed. “i don’t get it, boss. i just _don’t_. look at what she _did_ ta ya,” he snarled, gesturing to Edge’s injured side. “she almost killed you. an i’m not even gonna get inta all those times you’ve had ta drag yerself back from her house, bloodied and bruised. who fuckin’ cares if ya snapped off a hand. she deserves it.”

“Sans. _No_.”

“yer always arguin’ with her about how she runs the guard—“

“ENOUGH!” They regarded each other silently for a few minutes. Red was the first to look away. “Go to sleep, runt.” He took a breath and extended an olive branch. “We can talk about this in the morning. Calmly.”

Red was looking at him oddly. “sure, boss. whatever ya say.” Edge narrowed his sockets, but Red flicked off the lights and teleported into the bed. “g’night, boss. see ya in the mornin’.”

Edge thought about pursuing the matter, but he was. so. tired. _It can wait until morning_. He shifted to lay down on the bed. Despite the anxious fluttering of his soul, despite his self-revulsion and horror, Edge fell asleep relatively easily, one hand on his brother’s arm.

When next he woke, the clock read 4AM, and Red was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence and dismemberment. 
> 
> The next chapter is probably going to be from Edge's perspective. I don't imagine you guys mind that, though, right?


	10. No, everything's fine. Really.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge doesn't know how to accept help, and Blue won't stand for that.

Edge blinked and sat up. The other side of the bed was still warm, so Red hadn’t been gone for very long. Edge’s soul pulsed with terror, but he pushed it down. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that he needed to proceed logically, that he couldn’t just charge ahead, all fury and bullheadedness. This required care and caution. A delicate touch. He ignored the sudden surge of inadequacy that pulsed alongside the bubbling fear and the inner voice that insisted he didn’t do _‘_ delicate’. Another deep breath. Alright. Just—

He didn’t so much stand up as he did spill out of the bed. His ribs protested violently, and he knelt, almost grateful for the sudden piercing pain. It gave him something else to focus on. Something to fight against, even if it was his own body. Concentrating on his breathing, he pressed a hand to the wall and slowly stood, leaning against it. He pressed his brow to the wood and breathed.

_(Finding Red huddled in the shower, cold water rushing over his bare bones. His soul, visible through his ribcage, was dim and faded. Flickering. “heya, b-boss.” He was shivering violently. “m-mornin’.”_

_“Sans, what are you doing? How long have you been in here?” Forcing himself to speak calmly, despite the fear gripping the base of his spine._

_“heh. just ch-chillin’ out.”)_

He pushed away from the wall, finding his feet. By the time he opened the door, he was upright and strong. “Red,” he hissed, not wanting to wake anyone else. He poked his head into the kitchen. No Red. The living room was empty too. Then— _Stars, I’m an idiot_. He walked back into the spare room and unplugged his phone. He dialed Red’s number, then cursed when it went straight to voicemail. Either Red’s phone was dead or he’d purposefully turned it off. He wrote up a quick text and sent it. It wasn’t a particularly polite text, but he hoped it would impress upon Red the importance of returning his call immediately.

In the meantime, he’d keep looking and continue ignoring the churning in his soul.

_(“Brother?” Shaking his older brother’s shoulder. Getting no reaction. “Brother!? Sans!”_ )

_Stop it,_ he ordered himself, _He’s fine. He was s and r before he went to sleep; he’s_ fine _. Everything is fine_. Was his breathing unsteady? Only a little. Take a moment. Breathe. Okay. Continue.

He crept up the stairs, deftly avoiding the creaky stair third from the bottom, only to realize that since this was a Swap-verse, it was the third from the top that creaked. He flinched at the sound, and waited for either Paps or Blue or both to come bursting out of the their rooms and demand to know what was going on. Neither stirred. He allowed himself to be completely flabbergasted by that—stars, these two were so unprepared for an attack, it was actually embarrassing—before he continued upstairs.

Paps’ door was first, and he paused outside. He pressed his acoustic meatus against the door and listened. He wasn’t stupid; Paps was always touching Red, always fussing over him. And Red wasn’t exactly picky about his sexual partners, particularly after a bad panic attack. It might even explain why Red didn’t wake him first; the smaller skeleton might have been embarrassed or thought Edge would be upset.

Honestly, Edge didn’t care—Red could fuck whomever he wanted, so long as he was safe. Which dramatically narrowed his options in their own universe, of course, but in Underswap, he wasn’t so limited. In fact, Paps wasn’t really a bad option, in that respect; certainly, Edge would prefer his brother sought comfort from that corner than from Underfell’s Grillby.

There were no sounds beyond the door, so Red wasn’t _actively_ fucking Paps. Edge and Red shared a wall in their home universe; Edge knew for a fact that, even when he was trying to be quiet, Red wasn’t especially quiet. Of course, that didn’t mean Red wasn’t in there. Considering how lazy the two of them were, Edge wouldn’t be surprised if they were already done. He pushed the door open a crack and peered inside.

Immediately, despite his fear for Red, he sneered. Stars, this place was disgusting. How did his alternate _live_ like this? For fuck’s sake….

There were too many socks to count, a damned _trash tornado_ , and a bare mattress. _Are those socks dirty?_ Edge wondered, both appalled and fascinated. Paps was sprawled across the mattress, stripped down to his khaki shorts. If Edge wasn’t so preoccupied, he would have been intrigued by the sight of Paps’ bare ribs and spine, the bones unmarred but thin and frail. Not malnourished, just fragile. Like spun glass. Well, Red wasn’t on the mattress with Paps. A quick glance around the rest of the room revealed that, though it was certainly messy…it was not messy enough to conceal Red. Unless he was hiding under the sock pile, and even Red wouldn’t go so far as to do something like that. Right?

…maybe later Edge would look under the sock pile, but only as a last resort.

His soul pulsed and his fingers tightened on the doorframe as he came to terms with the fact that Red wasn’t here. He’d been _sure_ that Red would be here. He eyed the sock pile again, then shook his head, shuddering. Only as a last resort. Carefully, he shut the door quietly, again stunned that Paps hadn’t woken.

Carefully, he crept across the hall to peer into Blue’s room. Rather than soothing him, the clean and orderly room only ramped up his anxiety, because it was immediately obvious that Red wasn’t here. “Papy?” a sleep-clouded voice asked, “Did you have another nightmare?”

_Nightmare?_ He filed that information away for later. “Wrong Papyrus,” he said, distantly startled to realize how shaky his voice sounded.

Blue sat up, immediately awake. “Edge?” He sounded more than a little alarmed, and Edge wondered just how bad he looked to elicit that response. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Quiet,” he ordered, “The ashtray’s still asleep. Have you seen Red?”

“I thought he was sleeping with you.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, his soul pulsing in mounting panic. _Stop it. He’s fine. Hold it together._ Quickly, he was coming to realize that it was not Red’s prior mental state that had him teetering on the edge of panic, but his own. He was still reeling from remembering—allowing himself to remember—exactly how that fight with Undyne had gone, and Red’s disappearance was not helping matters. “Go back to sleep,” he ordered, working to keep his voice firm and steady. He turned to leave, but Blue was already bounding after him.

“Edge, I really think you should sit down and tell me what happened. You look—“

He tried to summon up the outrage to growl, but he only managed a low rumble. “Giving orders again, pipsqueak? I told you to go back to sleep. I’ll handle this.” Blue’s features hardened and he drew himself up. Anticipating the argument, and knowing he wasn’t in any fit state for it, Edge turned away and started back down the stairs. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Edge?” Blue whisper-yelled after him. “What happened? Where’s Red?”

“I don’t—“ He took a sharp, shaking breath and pretended that his voice hadn’t just cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I don’t know, but I intend to find him.” Ah. There was the growl he’d been looking for earlier. He must have looked truly menacing in that moment, because Blue actually took a step back, his ever-present grin wavering slightly. For a moment, he felt a surge of vicious satisfaction, but it soured quickly into regret. He didn’t want Blue to fear him, but really, it was for the best, if only because now Blue would leave him to fret over his brother in peace.

He turned away and walked toward the front door, trying to figure out what his next step should be. Would Red have stayed in Underswap or would he have gone back to Underfell? Or maybe even Undertale? Edge wasn’t sure. If Red wasn’t with him and he wasn’t with Paps or Blue, then could he be—

A hand curled around his own, and he spun on his toes, hefting the smaller monster up by their throat and pinning them to the wall in one practiced motion. /RAGE/HATE/SPITE/MALICE/ The intent poured off of him in waves, and his magic curled and crackled around him, guttering threateningly in one socket. The potential never actualized so he never truly harmed the other monster, but the menace radiating from him and the threat of his magic were typically enough to ward off most monsters foolish enough to attack the Great and Terrible—

The small figure dangling from his hand finally registered, as did the fear in those blue eyelights, devoid of their customary stars. _No!_ He very nearly dropped Blue as his panic finally burst to the forefront. With shaking hands, he carefully set the small skeleton down and tried to back away, soul fluttering and flickering. This was _Blue_. This was _Sans_ , even if not _his_ Sans! How could he—?

In a display of either extreme bravery or stupidity, Blue kept hold of his hand, not allowing Edge to flee. A quiet whine escaped without Edge’s consent. His gaze kept flicking between Blue’s cervical vertebrae and the hand trapped in the smaller monster’s. How could he do that to _Sans_ , any Sans?

_(“it’s okay, boss.” It was not okay! “i know i startled ya. look—see? it’s barely even a bruise. it’s fine.” NOTHING ABOUT THIS WAS FINE—)_

He tried to pull away, but Blue just wrapped another hand around his and tightened his hold. Edge was shaking so badly that his bones rattled. Blue said something, but Edge was too panicked to catch it. Stars, he had to _get away_. Didn’t Blue realize he was a danger? Didn’t he see that Edge would only ever hurt him? It’s what he was good at, what he was made for.

_(“See, dearie~? You only needed a little LOVE.” A warm tongue, licking the blood from his phalanges. “Now you’re a proper monster. Ahuhuhu~”)_

Another pathetic whine. Stars, was that _Edge_? What was he whining about? What right did he have? Blue was the one who’d _been thrown against a fucking wall_. With a sudden burst of strength, Blue forced him to lean down, and the smaller monster placed a hand on one shoulder to hold him in place. The other hand cupped his cheekbone. His jaw moved, but Edge was too busy trying to turn away to realize what that meant. A frustrated but worried expression crossed the small monster’s features, and he caught Edge’s skull in both hands, forcing him to _look_ at Blue.

Edge cringed and shut his sockets. He was exactly the kind of Fell-verse trash that Paps thought he was. He didn’t deserve Blue’s compassionate gaze, or the kind words he was—Wait. What? “—need to talk to me,” Blue was saying, doing an admirable job of staying calm. “I want to help you. I _will_ help you, but you have to tell me what you need. Edge? Papyrus? Boss?”

He had to choke down a hysterical laugh when he heard the other monster trying out different names for him. _Try gutter-rat. Or whoreson. Or—_ It was amazing, really, that Paps thought Edge would find ‘Fuckfell’ to be particularly offensive or insulting. Stars, it was practically a pet name, compared to some of the things he’d been called. And honestly, he’d take a heartfelt insult over a pet name any day. Better the sword you could see than the dagger in the dark.

“Boss,” he said, when he’d mastered his hysteria, “It’s—it’s probably best. Right now.” It was both safe and familiar. It would keep him grounded and help him remember that this was _Sans_ and not some interloper. ‘Edge’ was too new, and Muffet was probably the only one that regularly called him by his proper name without whimpering first.

Blue smiled, looking relieved. “Okay,” he said, a little breathlessly, “Good. Are you with me now, Boss?”

Edge took a knee so he wasn’t bent over so awkwardly. It put them almost at eye-level, though Blue was a few inches taller now. Edge’s gaze caught on Blue’s neck. “I hurt you,” he said, not bothering to hide how broken he sounded.

“No,” Blue said firmly, “no, you didn’t. Besides, I’m more concerned with you right now.” He stroked Edge’s cheekbone with his thumb, but he never released his hold. “I need you to tell me what to do, Boss. How can I help?”

His reply was immediate. “I need to find Red.”

He could tell that wasn’t the answer Blue wanted. Nonetheless, the smaller skeleton smiled for him and nodded reassuringly. “Okay. I’ll help you look for him, but I need you to do something for me first, okay, Boss? I need you to stay here—“ Edge immediately tried to jerk out of his hold, protesting that he would not be left behind while Blue looked for his brother. “Boss! _Boss!_ Only for a minute, okay? I have to get my phone. If Papy wakes up while we’re gone, he needs to be able to reach me. Can you stay here for me? Only for a second?”

Edge swallowed, thinking. Slowly, he nodded. “Yes. I can—yes.”

“Alright. Good. That’s good. Stay here; I’ll be right back.” Blue released him slowly, then darted away to retrieve his phone. While he was gone, Edge took the time to put himself back in order. Breathing slowly and deeply, he reminded himself that Blue wasn’t as fragile as Red. He would be fine, and Red himself was both strong and capable when he buckled down and got serious. Red was fine. Wherever he was, Red was fine. He was fine.

Blue found him on the ground, upper body folded over his lower half and arms wrapped around his abdomen. Showing a good deal of wisdom, Blue made sure to scuff his feet on the floor as he approached, clearing his throat before he asked, “Boss? Are you okay?” He reached out, but Edge flinched away.

“A and d,” he protested, then cursed himself. Of course Blue wouldn’t know what that meant. “I mean….” He paused, remembering his deal with Paps. However, he couldn’t handle it right now. He just couldn’t—the very idea of being touched, by anyone, made his soul churn unpleasantly. “Please,” he whispered, “not now. Don’t—“ He took a deep breath. “Don’t touch me right now. And…don’t tell Paps. Please.” What would he do if Blue refused him? If Blue’s kindness was concealing a deeper current of malice? Edge had just revealed a glaring weakness. A Fell monster would have taken advantage immediately. What if Blue was no different?

Edge would endure. He’d done it before. He’d no doubt have to do it again. Really, a bit of discomfort was a small thing, in the grand scheme. The betrayal—and when had Blue gotten close enough for that to be a possibility anyway?—would cut deeper, but it wouldn’t be the first or last time he’d experienced that either.

Slowly, Blue withdrew his hand, trying and failing to conceal his confusion. He too sank to his knees so they were both on the ground. “I won’t touch you, Boss. Not without your permission. I promise.” Something inside of Edge unclenched, and he had to bite down on a relieved sob. He hadn’t even realized how much Paps’ deal had cost him—taking away his ability to refuse physical contact had wound him up even more tightly than he’d realized. Blue had handed it back to him, if only temporarily, and the relief was so potent it was nearly painful.

For the moment, he ignored the voice at the back of his mind murmuring that there was a price to this too. Kindness didn’t come free.

Instead, he simply whispered, “Thank you.”

“Of course. But…why can’t I tell Papy?”

Edge looked up to meet Blue’s eyelights. Honest concern and compassion—so different from pity—looked back at him. “I thought—“ But no, that was foolish. He should have known that Paps would hide this from Blue as well. Outrage and sympathy welled in his soul. Edge knew well what it felt like to be disregarded and patronized. He’d once been young and small and naïve. How many times had Red given him a fake smile and false reassurances when they were children?

The condescension was unbearable. The inability to help—because no one would let you, because no one thought you were capable or competent—was almost physically painful. Blue, at least, had never found himself suddenly without his brother’s, admittedly stifling, protection. Under educated. Under prepared. And in Underfell, of all places.

Edge didn’t want to keep this from Blue. He didn’t want to be like Paps or Alphys. However, Blue’s feelings on the matter weren’t as important as maintaining his agreement with Paps. He’d bargained for not only his, but Red’s protection. If Paps knew he’d gone back on his word, then he wouldn’t be obligated to keep to the agreement either. He might even penalize Edge for breaking the deal.

_(Feeling sick, feeling angry and humiliated. Dropping to his knees_ — _)_ _Stop it!_

The Tale-verse monster would never understand; if Edge told him, he would undoubtedly try to talk to his brother about it, thinking that he could ‘fix it’. As long as he was this weak, Edge couldn’t allow that to happen. After he was healed, perhaps they could discuss things more openly, but for now, he simply couldn’t risk it. “I can’t tell you,” he said, “but please, pipsqueak; don’t talk to Paps about this.”

Blue was obviously torn, but eventually, he came to a decision. “Okay. I won’t tell Papy—but this isn’t over. We’re going to talk about this, Edge. But I promise I won’t talk to Papy until after I talk to you.”

Another wave of relief. “Thank you.”

Blue’s phone buzzed, and he eyed it. “I texted Rus,” he explained. “He says that Red’s not with him, but he’ll take a look around Undertale.” Edge nodded, glad that Blue had thought to text the other Papyrus. He wasn’t really worried about involving Rus or waking him. The other monster slept even less than Edge did, and he cared about Red almost as deeply. He would want to help—would have been upset if they hadn’t asked for it.

“Where should we start?” Edge asked, “I’ve looked through the house, but he’s not here. I don’t know where he goes when he’s in this universe, though.”

Blue considered. “I think he likes Waterfall?” the smaller monster said slowly.

“That…seems like a good place to start,” Edge said. Waterfall was plenty beautiful in Underfell, but it wasn’t safe. A monster couldn’t stargaze there, not without risking life and limb. Red, who had always loved the stars, would have been delighted to discover a universe in which he could gaze up at them to his heart’s content. The idea made Edge’s soul ache a little bit.

_One day, brother. I promise we will see the stars. Real ones._

Steeling himself, he stood and staggered, catching himself on the wall. Now that some of his panic had worn off, his ribs _hurt_. He’d probably re-opened a few breaks. He breathed through his teeth, willing the pain away. All the while, Blue gazed up at him with worry. “I’m fine, pipsqueak,” he said through clenched teeth, “I just need a minute.”

“O-okay, boss.” He tapped at his phone, no doubt keeping in contact with Rus.

Finally, the pain faded and he gestured for Blue to precede him. “Well? Lead on.” A strange look passed over Blue’s face, gone so fast that Edge could only read the concern in it, and then he darted away, grabbing a jacket and one of Paps’ hoodies, as well as their shoes, from the entry closet. He retained the pastel blue jacket, but he held out the hoodie to Edge. The taller skeleton stared at it for a few seconds before taking it gingerly between thumb and forefinger. “I need this why?”

“To keep warm,” Blue said brightly as he slipped his arms through the jacket sleeves. Then he popped the hood up and Edge froze, cocking his head slightly to one side. Were there…cat ears? Sewn onto Blue’s hood? Yes. Yes there were. _Stars on fire_ …. He pressed his thumb to his nasal ridge and ducked his head. “What is it?” Blue asked. Edge shook his head, temporarily unable to speak. “Boss? Are you okay?” Stars, he sounded honestly worried.

Given Edge’s recent behavior, he couldn’t blame the small monster for that. Without looking up, he said, “You’re too fucking cute! I can’t—I don’t even—What am I suppose to do with that?” He laughed a little—more at himself than at Blue. Then he looked up, saying, “Not going to chastise me for my…” he trailed off, realizing that Blue was looking at him with hearts in his eyes, his features flushed a faint cyan.

“Do you really think I’m cute?”

His cheekbones instantly heated, and Edge looked away, crossing his arms. He cleared his throat. “So, since this is a Swap-verse, Waterfall must be that way, right?” He picked a direction that he hoped was vaguely West.

Blue couldn’t quite manage a smirk, but he came very close. “You think I’m cute,” he affirmed, confidence oozing from his tone and expression. “It’s okay if you’re embarrassed. You don’t have to admit it.” How did a monster manage to say that sentence _sincerely_? Edge wouldn’t have thought it was possible. If _he_ said it, he’d sound like a complete asshole. How did the pipsqueak manage to make it charming? Blue stepped around Edge, careful not to touch him, and started toward Waterfall. “It’s this way, and put the coat on. It’s cold out here.”

Edge looked at the hoodie, then at Blue’s retreating back, and then back at the hoodie. With a sigh, he pulled it on; he had to admit it was quite cold out. Ordinarily, his magic would keep him warm, but he was losing a lot of heat through the healing matrix centered around his ribcage. Not to mention being low in HoPe generally made even a skeleton more susceptible to temperature extremes. He slipped on his shoes and followed Blue into the snow.

Trudging after the smaller monster, he had to wonder why Blue was bothering with a jacket; he wasn’t injured or low in HP. Then, just as he caught up, he realized that Blue had done it to make Edge feel less self-conscious and consequently less likely to refuse out of pride. For several silent minutes, he wasn’t sure if he was proud of the Tale monster’s cunning or annoyed to have been so skillfully manipulated. As the hoodie captured and held the warmth emanating from the healing matrix, and Edge let out an unconscious sigh, he settled on proud.

Even if the scent of smoke and honey and bones was making his magic stir with interest. This he firmly ignored.

“Warm?” Blue asked, smiling cheekily. Edge decided he could be both annoyed and proud.

“Yes, you’re very clever. Don’t push it.” Blue chuckled and started up the happy babble that Edge was slowly becoming accustomed to. Every once in a while, Blue’s phone would buzz and he’d deliver an update from Rus before sending another text back.

Having Blue beside him was incredibly comforting. He wasn’t sure if that was due to his being a Sans or if it was simply Blue’s individual personality that helped so much, though he was leaning toward the latter. They walked briskly, though Blue kept eyeing him, likely worried about his injuries. Nonetheless, he maintained his happy chatter, keeping Edge’s mind from spiraling into self-perpetuating panic.

Every once in a while, his soul would pulse with renewed terror like a sudden stab. His limbs would go loose, ready to fight, as magic flickered around his fingers and caused his eyelights to flare. Menace radiated from him. They were out in the open, now. Fear had to be concealed, covered with something a good deal more threatening. Murderous rage always seemed to work best. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t Underfell. Ingrained instinct could not be reasoned with.

Every time it happened, Blue would patiently pause and talk him back from the edge, never touching him unless he looked like he was about to run off. Even then, the small monster always announced his intentions beforehand. The last couple times, Edge actually reached out and planted a hand on Blue’s shoulder, taking strength from the other’s presence. Reminding himself where he was and who he was with. Gradually, Edge’s soul stopped threatening to fall back into panic.

They reached Waterfall, and though they conducted a thorough search, they didn’t find Red. Edge was coming to suspect that he knew where his brother had gone. He didn’t want it to be true, though, particularly if he was doing what Edge thought he might be doing. _He wouldn’t_ , he tried to tell himself, though he knew that was a lie. He would. He most certainly would. Finally, he called off the search, and said, “Come on, pipsqueak. Let’s head back. He wouldn’t have gone to Hotland or the capital; I know that much. Is there anywhere in Snowdin he might have gone?”

Blue nodded and looked away, one hand rubbing at the opposite elbow. “He and Papy sometimes go to Muffet’s,” he said. Something in the way he said it put Edge on immediate alert.

“What’s wrong with Muffet’s?” he asked, suddenly afraid that the Muffet of this universe might be even a little bit like the Muffet of his. _I swear on the stars, if she’s done something to Blue or Red or even fucking Paps…she won’t live long enough to do it again_. He could forgive what had been done to him. Part of him was actually grateful for it; it had toughened him up, had given him the tools to survive in Underfell. He would not be so forgiving if one of the other skeletons had been subjected to the same treatment.

“Nothing!” Blue insisted, “There’s nothing wrong with Muffet or her—place of business. It’s just….” He shook his head, forcing the stars back into his eyelights. “It’s nothing. I’m being silly. Her food’s just so _unhealthy_. It can’t be good for either Red or Papy, considering they’re already low in HP.” Edge’s sockets narrowed. He cut off Blue’s babble by catching him by the shoulder. “Boss?”

“You can call me Edge again. I’m better now.” He steered Blue toward a convenient bench and set him down firmly. “Talk,” he ordered.

Blue gazed up at him with wide sockets. “I—I was? So, um, I don’t really…know what you want?”

Edge crossed his arms. “That fake-ass smile doesn’t fool me, and if I ever see you _force_ the stars back into your pupils again, I will slap you. See if I don’t.” He wouldn’t, but he wanted to impress upon Blue the severity of his displeasure. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Blue; what’s wrong with Muffet’s?”

“N-nothing!” Blue said frantically, waving his hands as if to emphasize the point. “There’s nothing wrong!”

“Not good enough,” Edge said, “I’m not walking into a situation unprepared, pipsqueak. If you know something—“

“No! No, it’s nothing like that,” Blue said desperately, then he slumped forward, skull in his hands. “It’s not Muffet, I swear.” Edge relaxed marginally, but he didn’t allow Blue to stand up. The small monster sighed and said quietly, “It’s…it’s not _her_ fault, but it’s easier to blame her. Papy spends so much time there, and he comes home—“ Blue gestured helplessly, unwilling to say that his brother was shitfaced, even in more polite terms. “If he comes home at all.” He hunched in on himself. “I just, I can tell there’s something wrong and I want to _help_ , but he won’t let me, and he says he’s fine when he’s obviously not. I don’t know what to do.” He looked up at Edge, eyelights too-bright with unshed tears.

Edge relaxed a little and settled beside Blue, leaving a handspan of space between them. “You can’t save people from themselves, Blue.” Stars, he was a hypocrite.

“He’s my brother! I can’t give up on him!”

“That’s not what I said,” Edge replied. “Be there for him when he’s ready to ask for help, but until then, there’s nothing you can do. It’s not an easy lesson to learn, pipsqueak, but it’s the truth.” Blue hunched in on himself, arms wrapped around his abdomen. He was shaking. Hesitantly, Edge reached out and pulled the other monster against his side. “Is this okay?”

Blue nodded and pressed himself into Edge. “I-I’m sorry,” Blue suddenly babbled, “I’m supposed to be helping you look for Red, and now I’m—“ He shuddered and whined quietly, trying to hold in a sob. “I’m sorry. I—We can keep looking. Just, I need—“

“Easy there, pipsqueak,” Edge said, rubbing his thumb over Blue’s small scapula. “Take your time. I’m fairly sure I know where he is, and I’m not dragging you to Underfell with me. Just breathe.” He squeezed lightly. “Let me look after you for a bit, alright? You’re always running around, taking care of everyone. Relax for a few minutes, and let someone else take care of things.”

Blue looked up at him with wide sockets. “B-but I like helping people. I d-don’t know what’s wrong with me r-right now.”

Edge turned a little, so they were almost facing each other. It was an awkward sitting position, particularly since his legs were so long, but he made it work. “I never said you didn’t, and there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re allowed to be upset sometimes, pipsqueak. You’re allowed to ask for help yourself.” Asgore’s flowers, he really _was_ a hypocrite. “You need to take care of yourself too, if you want to be able to help anyone else. Consider that an order.”

Blue nodded, smiling weakly, and leaned forward, pressing his brow into Edge’s sternum. The larger monster froze briefly, not entirely sure what to do with himself. He just…wasn’t good at this. Slowly, he lowered a hand to rest on Blue’s skull and stroked the coronal suture.

He projected /Security/Strength/Control/Stability/, hoping his paltry efforts might help Blue. To his surprise, Blue sobbed quietly and essentially climbed into Edge’s lap, as if he just couldn’t get close enough. Now that his soul was more settled, the contact was pleasant. In fact, he felt his limbs relaxing, even though they were out in the open where anyone could come upon them. This wasn’t Underfell, though, and he knew they’d be safe enough here.

Slowly, he lowered his arms to encircle Blue, and he squeezed, something inside of him unclenching as warmth flooded his soul. Then he felt Blue projecting back at him—/AFFECTION/CARE/SAFETY/WARMTH/LOVE/—and he was keenly aware of all the pieces of himself that he had lost. Whatever sorrow he felt for that loss was quickly drowned out, though, and he found himself melting into the embrace. Both of them needed this, he realized, and that was okay. He would allow himself this much, if only for a few minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edgeberry fluff. <3
> 
> Paps returns in the next chapter. I'm sorry I couldn't put any spicyhoney in this chapter, but his character just hasn't progressed enough for that.


	11. Quiet self-reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paps takes Edge's advice. It does not go well.

After he finished reading Peek-a-Boo with Fluffy Bunny, Paps tucked Blue in and pressed a skeletal kiss to his forehead. The smaller monster sighed happily and sleepily wished him a good night. Blue’s bedtime story had been a bit more interesting the day before, given Red’s presence and his insistence on interjecting his own commentary. More than once, Blue had threatened to expel him from the room, but he’d quieted down eventually, a far-away look in his eyelights.

Paps stepped out into the hall and, after shutting the door, leaned against it and sighed in relief. He always dreaded the day when Blue finally declared that he was too old for the bedtime ritual. It might help the hyperactive monster wind down at the end of the day—without it, Blue would just keep going until he literally collapsed from exhaustion—but it helped Paps, too, putting him in a good frame of mind before going to sleep. He could use all the help he could get. Anything longer than a nap, and he risked falling victim to his recurrent nightmares.

 _(Blue hurt. Blue dusted. Blue_ tortured before his very eyes. _Laughter, as childish as it was sinister._ )

d o n ’ t  t h i n k  a b o u t  i t .

Pushing away from the door, he made his way downstairs to peek in on their Fell-verse guests. After Red’s breakdown, he wanted to make sure that he was settling in properly. His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers automatically finding the lighter. He pressed his acoustic meatus against the door, then cracked it open so that he could check on them without disturbing the sleeping monsters.

Edge was flat on his back, face turned toward the door so Paps could see that his features were drawn even in sleep. He could see the faint glow of red magic from beneath his undershirt, emanating from the healing matrix around his ribs. Paps went completely stiff when he realized that wasn’t the only source of red light.

Red sat cross-legged on top of the covers, eyelights fixed on the door. Watching over his brother. He looked at Paps, brow-bone raised, then lifted a finger to his mouth in the multi-universal sign for quiet. Paps closed the door, feeling oddly like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find Red standing behind him when he turned, but his soul definitely gave a startled pulse. Red looked him up and down, his smile fierce rather than friendly. It looked a lot like the expression he’d worn when Paps had called up his gaster blaster.

“heya, paps,” Red said, faux-cheerfully. “what er ya doin’?” Paps was the older brother; he most certainly recognized that particular tone.

“i was just checking on you guys. i wanted to make sure you were settling in. it’s…been an eventful day.” Understatement of the year.

The cruel edge faded from Red’s expression. “oh. er…thanks, stretch.” The aggression slowly eased out of his posture.

“i was going to have a smoke before i went to bed,” Paps said, holding up the lighter and the pack of cigarettes. “care to join me?”

Red gave a rueful grin. “nah. boss’d smell it on me, an’ then i’d be in fer it. you too. fer, heh, ‘corruptin’ me.”

Paps glanced back at the spare room, then at Red. “you got anything you want to get off your chest, kid?” They didn’t really do deep talks. It wasn’t in their nature. It was easier to just crack stupid jokes and pretend nothing was wrong, and neither of them had the energy or will to challenge it if the other said they were fine. Sometimes, though, that’s what they needed. Blue could be a little…overwhelming, at times, even if he was just trying to help. Paps couldn’t even imagine what living with Edge was like. Still, he needed Red to know that he was here, if he needed him. “i meant what i said,” Paps said softly, “if you ever, you know, need to talk. i’m here.”

“are ya?” Red asked, but he wasn’t challenging Paps’ claim this time. His grin became more genuine and less forced. He crossed his arms and looked away, settling into the ‘tough guy’ persona he adopted when he felt awkward. Paps had always found it secretly adorable, but—

_(“he don’ need both ‘is hands, right?”)_

—maybe not anymore. Even if it was pretty hard to take the small skeleton seriously while he was wearing Blue’s pajamas. “thanks,” Red said softly, chin jutting out pugnaciously. As if someone was going to start arguing with him. “fer…everything, ya know.” He looked up at Paps, allowing a bit of the act to drop. Not entirely, but a bit. “i know you an’ boss don’ get along, but thanks fer lettin’ me bring ‘im here.”

“anytime, kid.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, ignoring the way his cheekbones warmed as he said, “he’s, uh, kinda growing on me. tibia-nest.” They shared a feeble grin at the weak pun. They’d used it too often for even the punny skeletons to find it humorous— _heh—_ but there was a kind of comfort to be found in the familiar joke, even if had lost its humor long ago.

“yeah,” Red said, stretching, “the prickly bastard’s pretty hard ta get close to. but, uh, do me a favor, would ya?”

“anything.”

Red’s eyelights guttered out, and he exhaled slowly. “never say that to a fell-verse monster, paps. ever. i can’t always be trusted ta resist temptation, an’ i’m one ‘a the few that’ll try. ya understand?” Slowly, Paps nodded, sockets wide. Red’s eyelights returned, but they were dim. He jerked a thumb toward the closed spare room door, obviously indicating Edge. “don’ do anything stupid, alright? the flirtin’s funny. it is. i mean, i don’ even know when i got ta see ‘im blush like that last. but—“ He stepped close, smiling so the light caught his gold tooth just right. Somehow, even in Blue’s borrowed pajamas, he managed to look threatening. “don’t try ta take it any further than that.”

“red, i’m not—“

“don’t,” Red said softly. “i mean it. i see how yer lookin’ at ‘im, an’ i’m tellin’ ya, it’ll end badly. fer him. he’s already too good fer underfell. ya don’t even know—“ For a moment, his expression crumpled, and his sockets went wide, red tears glinting at the edges.

“hey, kiddo—“ Paps reached for him, but Red slapped his hand away, and the hard edges returned to his expression.

“don’ fuckin’ touch me,” he growled, “and stay the fuck away from my boss. you’ll make ‘im soft, paps, an’ he can’t afford that. it’ll get ‘im killed. so just…don’t. got it? ‘less yer just lookin’ fer a quick fuck, but somethin’ tells me you tale-verse monsters can’t just leave it at that.” He paused, and said, “i can trust ya ta keep blue an’ him apart, right? ‘cause i know neither of us wants those two ta get together.”

Paps stared at the smaller skeleton, taking in how tightly wound he was. Nothing in his posture or stance seemed lazy right now. His small hands were curled into fists, and his jaw was set. He wanted to scoop the other skeleton up and soothe away the tension, but Red had made it pretty clear he didn’t want to be touched. Stars, he didn’t know what to do; he felt so helpless.

 _the edgelord was right_ , he thought bitterly. He was not prepared to comfort Red or bring him back from whatever mental ledge he was teetering on. Still, he would try. “red, blue and i would never do anything to hurt you or—“ Paps flinched, remembering the feeling of his foot connecting with Edge’s ribcage. How unnaturally spongy it had been, the magic matrix unresisting. “i don’t want to see either of you two hurt, alright?” There, that was true. Now, at least.

“yeah?” Red asked, an odd look in his eyelights.

“yeah.”

“then promise me, paps. promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Paps froze. Red knew well that he didn’t make promises, but he wasn’t leaving him any options here. Paps couldn’t very well say ‘no’. He sighed. “alright, kid. i promise i won’t do anything that risks your or edge’s safety. how’s that?”

Red considered, then nodded. “that’ll do.” He turned away and started back toward the spare room. “don’t think i won’t hold ya to that,” he warned, then disappeared into the spare room to go back to sleep. Or continue his vigil. Paps wasn’t really sure which.

In either case, the smaller skeleton had left him somewhat disturbed. Paps’ hand slipped into his pocket to play with his lighter. He took a step and teleported out back to his customary smoking spot. He wanted, badly, to deny Red’s concerns, but just recalling Edge’s…performance earlier in the evening had his jaw and pelvis growing hot with repressed magic. He had no idea how to even describe what Edge had been doing—it certainly wasn’t any kind of flirting he was familiar with. It had been too aggressive for that.

But, damn, had it been hot.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, allowing inhaled smoke to swirl around the interior of his ribcage. It licked at the magic holding his bones together and caused his soul to spark with pleasure-pain. The memory of red eyelights mere inches from his own, the inviting scent of pepper and bones surrounding him…. Paps exhaled, smoke curling from his jaw and eye sockets. No, he couldn’t deny that he wanted Edge.

 _(Edge looming over him and smirking, one hand on his cervical vertebrae and the other wrapped around his wrists. Holding him down. Keeping him captive. Projecting_ /Security/Stability/Control/Strength/ _. “Now, purr for me, Swapshit.”)_

Another drag on his cigarette. _damn it_. His pelvis warmed further, but he forced the magic down. He couldn’t deny the current of anger that accompanied his attraction. The anger wasn’t directed at Edge, though, but at himself. How could he find that arrogant ass attractive? He was a complete dick. Sure, Paps may have been wrong about him being an _abusive_ asshat, but he was still an asshat.

Even if he obviously loved his brother dearly, no matter how poorly he showed it. Even if he was cute when he blushed. Even if his stupid fucking story about the stupid fucking racecar box was both endearing and heartbreaking.

None of that mattered. Regardless of Red’s concerns, Paps had no intention of acting on his attraction. He’d spent so long hating the other skeleton for something he didn’t do, hating the ugliness and bitterness he saw in Edge.… Realizing that the scarred skeleton wasn’t who he’d always assumed him to be was throwing Paps off kilter. Worse, he realized that he’d been using Edge as a kind of measuring stick, figuring that they were both shitty brothers but rationalizing to himself that at least he wasn’t as bad as Edge.

Now, he was still using Edge as a measuring stick, but Paps was coming up short. And all the hatred that he’d had for Edge was being redirected at himself. After all, if the edgelord looked good in comparison, then what kind of a fuckup was he?

Edge might be a jackass, but at least he _tried_. When was the last time Paps had actually put any effort into anything? He remembered how appalled Edge had looked when Paps said that Blue was used to picking up after him. Why did Blue put up with him, anyway? Blue deserved better. A lot better. Paps wished he could be more like Rus, but it just wasn’t in him.

Somehow, Rus managed to look around himself, see what could be, and tirelessly work toward that goal. Blue was the same. Even Edge possessed some of that drive, though he was probably driven more by spite and stubbornness than the sweeter skeletons’ endless positivity. Paps just didn’t have the energy or the optimism. Why build something up, spend all that time and effort, only to watch it get torn down? How did they manage to get knocked down time and time again, just to pick themselves up, brush themselves off, and carry on just as cheerfully as before? Rus and Blue, at least. Edge didn’t really do cheerful.

Paps dropped the spent cigarette butt and ground it beneath his heel. He stared down at it, and the small pile of accumulated cigarette butts. This was _exactly_ his problem. Why did he let them build up like this? Why didn’t he just throw them away as he smoked them? If Blue saw this small mountain of trash, he’d be completely appalled. He said he wouldn’t touch the mess in Paps’ room, since the older skeleton was entitled to his own space, but communal areas were to be kept clean.

Paps was just too lazy, too apathetic. Caring required effort. He considered gathering up the cigarette butts and throwing them out. The trash bin was right there. He could do it. It wouldn’t even be hard. He could _see_ himself doing it. It would be. So. Easy. But then, why bother? He’d pick them up today, but—

_(they’d be back again tomorrow, as if he’d never touched them, because nothing he did mattered  n o t h i n g  e v e r  c h a n g e d n o t h i n g m a t t e r e d )_

—he’d just start piling them up again tomorrow. It wasn’t in him to actually change. Sure, he might compare himself against Edge, of all people, and realize he looked like the bigger asshole. But he wasn’t going to do anything about it. He didn’t have the willpower.

Soul burning with self-hatred, he turned away, leaving the pile of cigarette butts untouched, and took a shortcut to his bedroom, falling directly onto the mattress. He stared up at the ceiling, recognizing that it was going to be a bad night. He should go to Muffet’s and drink himself into a stupor. It would keep the nightmares at bay, even if it only made things worse in the long term. He might even be able to sweet-talk his way into Muffet’s bed and get rid of the lingering burn in his bones.

He cursed under his breath and dug through the nearby sock pile, pulling a bottle of honey from it. Edge might be the better skeleton, but Paps still couldn’t bring himself to trust the Fell-verse monster alone with Blue. So he wouldn’t be going to Muffet’s tonight. Tilting his head back, he squeezed a generous portion of honey onto his conjured tongue, ready to wallow in self-hatred until either exhaustion or the honey dragged him into sleep to face whatever nightmares waited for him there.

He shifted and something dug into his hip. Frowning, he reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out a small scroll. Wow, with everything that had happened, he’d actually managed to forget about it. While Edge had been interrogating Red, they had mentioned a mysterious something that Red had apparently put in his jacket pocket. They’d been so deliberately cryptic about it that Paps hadn’t been able to resist the urge to snag it.

That was before he’d seen Edge carefully cup Red’s soul between his hands and pour affection and care into it. It was before Edge had rather forcefully reminded him that it wasn’t exactly polite to pry into another person’s business—even if that person was, technically, an alternate version of himself.

Paps studied the scroll. The paper was rough and fibrous, more like fabric than paper, so it wasn’t from the surface. It had been made Underground. He weighed it in his hand, curious. However, the memory of Edge’s eyelights boring into him as the Fell-verse monster sarcastically asked if it was annoying to have someone butt into your business uninvited stalled him. He shouldn’t. Edge had proven, if nothing else, that he was better equipped to handle “Fell-verse bullshit” as he’d called it. _imagine that_ , he thought sarcastically, irritated with himself. Paps should trust him to handle this, even if he couldn’t bring himself to trust the other skeleton alone with Blue.

Were he in a different mood, Paps probably would have done just that. He would have teleported downstairs and quietly returned the scroll to Red’s jacket and put it out of his head. It wasn’t his business, wasn’t even his universe. The Fell-verse monsters could handle it.

However, Paps was currently spiraling down into a particularly dark mood. He was a nosy piece of shit that couldn’t mind his own damn business to save his own fucking life. So why not take a look to satisfy his curiousity? It’s not like it mattered anyway. It’s not like he would do anything about the fucking scroll, whatever it said. Because he was lazy and apathetic and trying to change his own behavior was too much stars-damned effort. Fuck it. Fuck. Everything.

He caught a corner of paper between his fingers and released the scroll, allowing it to unwind. “whoops,” he said, voice flat and emotionless. His gaze caught on the royal seal down at the bottom corner of the scroll, and he raised a brow-bone. _what the—?_ The missive was addressed to “Lt. Papyrus of the Snowdin Canine Unit” and filled with complex legalese that Paps, being the Royal Judge, was very familiar with. He scanned the royal summons once, growing numb as his anger turned to disbelief.

This. This couldn’t be saying what he thought it said. It felt like he was drowning. He read it again, trying to find a way to make things make sense again.

_(“If I have ever hurt Red, or if he has ever hurt me, then it was either an accident or the only option we had at the time.”)_

His soul grew heavy as disbelief turned to horror. _no. no, no—NO!_ He read it again and again, searching for some sign that he had misunderstood. That it didn’t say exactly what he thought it did, in clear black and white before him. But. He wasn’t mistaken. He didn’t misunderstand. It said exactly what he thought it did.

Edge was being summoned to the capital, to face the King’s Justice for the crimes of insubordination and grievous bodily harm to a superior officer, in addition to a bunch of other minor charges that were obviously tacked on just to make the whole thing sound impressive. By the way the letter was worded, it was obvious he wasn’t being called in for a trial or anything of that nature. He was presumed guilty, wouldn’t be given the chance to prove himself innocent, and he was expected to report for punishment in ten days’ time.

The only bright spot that Paps could see was that Edge was only being punished, not executed.

What truly horrified him, however, was knowing that ‘the King’s Justice’ was one of the secondary titles for the Royal Judge. Red. Red would have to—

_(“ya got hurt ‘cause a’ me. it’s always ‘cause a’ me.”)_

_oh. stars_.

No wonder the kid had lost his shit earlier that day. If it had been Paps in his place—well, he’d probably have done much worse than just traumatized a random thug off the streets. Queen Toriel—would never ask him to do something so heinous!—would probably be facing a rebellion, at least, if she ever ordered him to hurt Blue. Worse still, Edge had obviously known. He hadn’t been surprised. He hadn’t even looked upset or worried. He’d been _expecting_ it; he had already braced himself for it and was more concerned with assuring Red that he could handle it.

_(“You think I can’t take it?”)_

Which meant that this wasn’t the first time. This had happened before. Enough times that Edge had not only come to accept it but to expect it.

Paps felt like he was going to fall apart. He was internally screaming, and he felt like teleporting downstairs and shoving this in their faces and demanding to know why they hadn’t said anything? Why hadn’t they asked for help? Were they really just going to go back to Underfell and _let this happen_? He stayed frozen in place, knowing that wouldn’t help. If anything, he’d only make matters worse.

That dark, apathetic part of him tried to drag him back down. Why did he care so much, if they obviously didn’t? It was Fell-verse bullshit; let them handle it. Besides, Edge obviously didn’t want his help, and Red—

His hands closed into fists and a spark of magic flickered in his socket. _no._ This mattered. Even if they didn’t want his help. Even if nothing he did ever seemed to make a difference. This. Mattered. He would try, because even if he failed, even if he _couldn’t_ change anything…some things just could not be allowed to stand uncontested. This could not continue. Not on his watch.

He eyed the scroll and the bottle of honey before taking a quick shortcut downstairs. He tucked the scroll into Red’s jacket pocket and returned the honey to the kitchen, thinking all the while about Edge and Red. _they’re not going back there_ , he decided. _i’ll have to keep them here. or, hell, rus and sans would probably take them in, if they’d prefer that._ He didn’t like that idea. He wanted to keep both of the Fell-verse skeletons close, under his protection, but he’d settle for just knowing they were safe.

Red, he thought, would be the easy sell—once he convinced Edge to stay. Paps had already tried multiple times to convince Red to remain in the kinder universe, but he’d always brushed him off. If Edge stayed, though, then Red would too. If he couldn’t convince Edge, then no power in this or any universe could keep Red away from his brother. Paps knew himself well enough to know that was true of Red as well.

Now, he just had to figure out how to keep Edge here. That would be the hard part, he knew. Edge was so damn prickly and suspicious of everything. Part of him wished he could just force the stubborn bastard to stay in this universe, where he could be safe and happy, damn it. That was ridiculous, of course. He’d have to go about this more delicately, but he didn’t even know where to begin.

 _stars above, i’m going to need blue’s help with this_.

His brother would undoubtedly help. He wouldn’t even have to tell the smaller skeleton about the scroll. Blue would just be happy enough to have the pair in the house. The Swap-verse brothers could formulate a plan together and put it into action. Red and Edge would not be going back to their shit-hole of a universe. Not without a fight, at least. He’d discuss it with Blue in the morning, when the kid came in to wake him up. With that decided, he returned to his room and stripped off his hoodie and undershirt, though he didn’t bother to change out of his khakis.

And if the memory of a low, rolling chuckle beside his acoustic meatus followed him into more pleasant dreams than he typically enjoyed? Well, he lived in a Tale universe; he was entitled to a little Mercy on occasion.

 

Paps stirred and lifted an arm to eye the clock. 6AM. _waaaay too fucking early_ , he decided, though that seemed to be Blue’s preferred time to wake him. Whelp, Blue was apparently allowing him to sleep in, and Paps was not going to complain about that rare luxury. He hugged the pillow against his chest and kicked the blanket, tangled around his legs, back up so he could tug it over his head with a sigh. He allowed his mind to drift in that pleasant, hazy place between awake and asleep.

Then a seed of discomfort settled somewhere in his soul. He squeezed the pillow tighter, clenching his eye sockets as if he could forcibly block out whatever was bothering him. But that was impossible, because it was literally _nothing_. Nothing was bothering him. Nothing. No sounds of pots and pans clattering as Blue made breakfast. No quiet shuffling and scuffling as Blue put his room in order. No sign that Blue was doing any of the—sometimes exceedingly loud—things that he habitually did at this time of the morning. Even on those rare mornings he allowed Paps to sleep in.

Paps sat bolt upright. Blue didn’t sleep in. Ever. Even on those few occasions that he was sick, he’d drag himself into Paps’ bedroom and look pathetic until Paps roused himself enough to go downstairs and fix soup or tea or toast or whatever Blue needed. Paps stumbled out of bed, tripping over his own feet and the sheets tangled around his legs. While he was on the ground, he grabbed a convenient undershirt—dirty? who cared?—before pushing himself back to his feet and stumbling out of the room.

He pulled the undershirt over his skull as he raced to the railing to look down at the living room below. No Blue. He wasn’t in the kitchen either; even if he was making an effort to be quiet, Blue would never be able to manage the absolute silence that greeted him. His soul pulsed nervously. What was going on? Where was Blue?

Trying to keep down his panic—

_(one of his nightmares this was just like one of his nightmares was this a nightmare was he dreaming was this real what was going on  w h e r e  w a s  s a n s ! ? )_

—he knocked urgently on Blue’s door, barely giving the smaller skeleton time to respond before he pushed it open. No Blue, and the bed was unmade, sheets hanging over the side of the bed to trail on the ground. His soul went unnaturally still before it began pulsing erratically. “Sans!” he called, running out of the room, sockets wide. “Blue!” No response. Not even the Fell-verse brothers stirred below.

He went very still, and his eyelights guttered out. _he wouldn’t_ , he tried to convince himself even as a low growl escaped him. Almost without thinking about it, he teleported directly to the spare room, magic crackling around his fingers. At the ready, but he forced himself not to summon any attacks yet. He had no reason to suspect the edgelord had actually done anything. He was a fair Judge. He’d give Edge a chance.

To his surprise, the spare bed was in the same state of disarray as Blue’s. That…didn’t seem right. Edge habitually straightened and organized _everything_. There’s no way he would have left his bed unmade. If something had happened to Blue…then Edge might not be the cause, but a victim as well. And what about Red? Where was he?

Before Paps could work himself into a full panic, he heard the front door open and heard Blue speaking. “—was not an appropriate response, Edge.” Despite the chastisement, Blue sounded like he was trying not to be amused. “She was only trying to give you her number.”

“Well, I didn’t want it, and I most certainly didn’t give her permission to touch me.”

Blue sighed, but he still sounded somewhat amused. “Okay, I guess she probably shouldn’t have tried to stick her hand in your pocket. You really should have apologized for punching her, though.”

“I will not apologize; she deserved it. Maybe next time, she’ll ask before invading someone’s personal space.”

Paps was too relieved to really register what the two of them were talking about. He wanted nothing more than to burst out of the spare room and scoop Blue up into his arms, but he took a minute to calm himself. Blue couldn’t know close to panic he’d been. So, instead, he teleported to his room and stepped out into the hall, stretching and yawning as if he’d just woken up. “Good morning, Papy!” Blue said brightly, smiling wide, “I’m so proud of you for getting up without my help! I guess my magnificence is rubbing off on you~.”

“yeah, bro, guess—“ He went silent when his gaze fell on Edge.

 _oh. ohhh, fuck_.

Something low and deep in his soul pulsed when he saw Edge wearing his hoodie. He gripped the railing tightly, feeling heat spread out from his soul. He ~~definitely had~~ may have a ~~huge~~ slight possessive streak, and seeing Edge in his clothing was hitting him hard and fast. And, oh, _so_ good. Before he even knew what he was doing, he leaned forward, supporting himself on the railing as he said, “you know, edgelord, you look good in my clothes…but you’d look better in my bed.”

Both Blue and Edge stared up at him, startled. Then what he said really registered, and Blue frowned, saying, “Papy! That’s inappropriate!”

Edge, meanwhile, scowled. “Asgore’s horns,” he complained, “do you collect terrible pick-up lines as well as terrible puns?” He was blushing, though, and Paps looked him up and down, unable to quell a quiet, pleased purr. Thankfully, Edge was too far away to hear it. Probably.

“yeah, but i promise i only use them on you.” He winked, earning a sneer.

“Blue,” Edge said, “please fix whatever’s wrong with your brother. I’m going to make a phone call.” He walked toward the spare bedroom. Only as he disappeared inside did the other skeletons’ earlier conversation register.

“wait…did he punch muffet?”

Blue crossed his arms and said, “Yes. Because she was touching him inappropriately, and while I do not approve of his methods, I can sympathize with the sentiment.”

“well. uh. hmm.” Paps would have to go over to the café at some point and smooth things over. Muffet could get kind of prickly, and Paps would really prefer that she not poison his honey next time he went over there. If Edge and Red were going to take up residence in Underswap, they’d need to be taught—

Paps’ sockets widened and he teleported to the foot of the stairs and ushered Blue out the door, though the smaller skeleton protested. “Papy, what are you—?”

“i gotta talk to you, bro,” he said, then shut the door. “away from the edgelord.”

“Papy, I really wish you wouldn’t call him that.”

“c’mon, bro. he knows i don’t mean anything by it.” He ushered Blue toward the secret room, where they housed the machine. “okay, we should be able to talk in here.”

Blue was regarding him curiously. “Did something happen?” he asked, concerned, “You look peaked, brother.” The smaller skeleton gently took his hand, and Paps realized that he’d been fiddling with his lighter a little more frenetically than usual. “You’re going to catch yourself on fire. Again.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that particular memory. “it was only a small fire, bro.”

“Regardless,” Blue said, hands on his hips, “the Magnificent Sans cannot allow such flagrant disregard for personal safety. Honestly, brother, sometimes I worry about you.”

Paps smiled and said, “what would i do without you, bro?” Sans beamed and posed, but he still cast a worrying eye over Paps.

“You didn’t bring me in here to discuss fire safety, Papy. What happened?”

Paps exhaled, realizing belatedly that he hadn’t really considered what he was going to say to Blue. Best to just jump in, then. “blue,” he said, speaking slowly to give himself time to think, “it’s about red and edge. i’ve been thinking.” He clenched his hand, wishing Blue hadn’t taken his lighter.

The smaller skeleton stepped close and took his hands. “Go on, Papy,” he said with a smile, “I’m listening. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“they can’t go back there!” It burst out of him, almost without his consent.

Blue blinked. That obviously wasn’t what he had been expecting. “Um. Okay. Would you mind elaborating?”

Right. He took another breath and said, “you’ve seen what living in underfell has done to them, right? their scars and edge’s lv. you’ve seen—“

To his surprise, Blue flinched, looking pained. “yes,” the small skeleton replied, voice so soft he didn’t sound like himself, “i’ve seen.”

“we can’t let them go back there, bro. it’s killing them. mentally and physically. we have to do something.”

The stars in Blue’s pupils swelled. “Are you saying that they can stay here?!” he asked, practically bouncing on his toes.

“yeah, bro, but—“

“I’VE GOT TO TELL EDGE!~” Blue exclaimed, ecstatic. Paps tried to grab him before he could run off, but Blue was too fast for him. He started to curse under his breath, but Blue stopped inches from the door. The excitement drained out of him. “Edge…isn’t going to want to stay, is he?” He pressed a hand to the door. “He’ll think…we want something from him. Or that we’re going to do something to him or Red. He doesn’t trust us. Not really.”

Paps’ soul ached. “no, bro,” he said softly, “he doesn’t trust _me_. i think…i think he’s pretty comfortable with you.” Blue suddenly looked at the floor, arms crossed over his abdomen. “bro?”

“Papy, can you kneel down for a second?”

Paps raised a brow-bone, then shrugged. “sure, bro.” He knelt down, and Blue came over and cupped his skull in his hands, searching his eyelights. “uh, bro? what are you doing?”

Quietly, Blue said, “I want to make sure that there’s no reason for Edge to distrust you, Papy.” Paps flinched, and he wasn’t sure what hurt worse; that Blue had asked at all, or that he didn’t look surprised to see Paps’ flinch. Blue released him and backed away, shaking his head slightly. And looking so disappointed it was almost physically painful. “I’m sorry, brother. I can’t—” He took a breath, sockets shut, and corrected himself. “I won’t help until I know that Edge and Red are _both_ safe here.”

He opened his mouth, ready to insist that they were, that he wouldn’t do anything to either of them. That he had changed. He choked on his words when the door suddenly banged open, revealing Edge decked out in his armor. Paps blinked and stood up, unwilling to face the edgelord on his knees. “why are you wearing that? where are you going?”

“Underfell,” Edge said, looking surprised to see them there, “I’m going to go find Red.”

_“w h a t ? !”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We reap what we sow, ladies and gentlemen. We reap what we sow.


	12. Great and Terrible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge would like to remind everyone that he is not a nice person, and Paps might be in over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential triggers in the footnotes.

Edge really didn’t want to waste his time explaining the events of the last two hours to his alternate. He would rather just be on his way. He’d tried calling Red again, but the runt hadn’t answered, and Edge was out of patience. “Blue, explain. I’ll be back—“

Blue stared up at him, startled. “You’re not going alone.”

Slowly, Edge’s brow-bone crept up. “Well I’m certainly not bringing a couple of Tale-verse monsters to _Underfell_ with me.”

“Edge,” Blue said slowly, “you’re hurt. You aren’t in any shape to fight.”

“I’ll manage,” he said through grit teeth.

“You don’t have to—“

“is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Paps demanded, and the two energetic skeletons shared a look.

Edge rolled his shoulders, adjusting the way his armor sat on his bones. He hadn’t had time to hammer out all the dents, though he’d got the major ones, and the armor was sitting more awkwardly than usual. “Red’s been missing since 4AM. Maybe earlier. I had hoped he’d just wandered off for a bit, but he’s not here and he’s not in Undertale. So, since he didn’t bother informing me of his plans ahead of time, I can only guess that he’s doing something stupid. In Underfell. Now, if the pair of you don’t mind,” he said the last sarcastically, with a caustic glare at Blue—who, surprisingly, met it with a glare of his own, “I’m going to go find my brother.”

“ _We_ are going to go find Red,” Blue corrected him, even as his brother took a shortcut.

“No.”

“Edge, I can help!”

“I said _no_ , pipsqueak.”

“edge is right,” Paps said, reappearing with a pair of worn tennis shoes and a hoodie. “you’re not going anywhere, bro.”

“Thank you!” Edge said, exasperated…and not a little annoyed that he and Paps were in agreement. Then Paps slipped on the hoodie and tennis shoes, not bothering to tie the laces. His soul sank a little. “…what are you doing, Ashtray?”

“getting ready. any idea where he’s gone?”

 _For fuck’s sake…._ “You’re not coming with me either,” he snapped.

“right,” Paps agreed, and Edge almost sighed in relief, until he added, “you’re staying here with blue while i go get red.”

Edge blinked, then laughed darkly. “Cute. Real fucking cute, Swapshit, but you and your brother are staying here.”

“hey, tough guy,” Paps said, glaring, “blue’s right; you’re not exactly in fighting shape right now.”

“That’s why we’re going to help,” Blue said brightly.

“no,” Paps said, sighing, “you’re both going to stay here.”

“Brother—“

“I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS BULLSHIT!” Edge snarled, finally losing his patience entirely. “MY BROTHER IS MISSING, YOU IMBECILES.” He was too angry to regret Blue’s hurt expression. “I AM NOT STAYING HERE—“ He glared at Paps, who actually flinched in response. “—AND I AM NOT DRAGGING TWO TALE MONSTERS INTO UNDERFELL. YOU DO NOT BELONG THERE!”

“NEITHER DO YOU!” Blue burst out, and it startled Edge enough that his anger dissipated almost instantly. Blue was staring up at him with stars in his eyes, so full of hope and trust that Edge actually felt a little sick to have all that warmth directed at him. He forced himself to stand his ground, even though he wanted nothing more than to back away.

“Yes,” he said quietly, feeling the weight of his sins. “I do.”

“Edge—“

He cut Blue off with a gesture, sweeping his hand through the air as if he could knock the words away. “I do. Ask your brother. Hell, ask _my_ brother. Both of them can see it. Now stop arguing with me about this, and do as I say. Before I prove it to you.” He allowed /MALICE/HATE/SPITE/RAGE/ to project from his soul. Paps tensed immediately and pulled Blue against him. Edge allowed himself to sneer, even as his soul withered.

Despite that, Blue still looked at him with wide sockets. “Edge, please. You need help.”

“Not yours,” he snapped, then decided to go for the throat. “If I need someone to make _tacos_ , I’ll give you a call.” That finally made Blue flinch, and Edge would be lying if he claimed not to regret that. The stars had faded from Blue’s eyes, and he looked ready to cry. Edge’s soul flickered and twisted, sick. But this was good. It was how things had to be. It was what he wanted. “You two would slow me down,” he said, still sneering, “You wouldn’t be a help; you’d be a hindrance.” Blue curled in on himself, each word hitting him like a lash.

Edge wanted to rip his own mandible off, just to silence the stream of ugly words. His sockets burned, but he ignored it. He didn’t think he was actually capable of tears anymore. This was how it had to be; he wouldn’t be able to protect himself, his brother, _and_ these two. And if he failed to protect them? The consequences—

_(—a memory threatened to rise, but he pushed it down. Some things were too terrible. Some things were unspeakable, unthinkable, even for a Fell monster—)_

—did not bear contemplation. He pushed down his remorse, his soul-deep sorrow. Sometimes, kindness only disguised cruelty. Sometimes, cruelty could be used in service of true kindness. He would hurt them to protect them. He and his brother, at least, knew the consequences if he failed. These two would be completely blindsided. Radiating menace, he stepped past Paps and Blue.

Or, at least, he tried. Paps thrust out an arm, blocking his path. “you’re wrong,” Paps said quietly, and Edge turned to regard him, startled by what he saw. There was wariness there, and he still clutched Blue to his side protectively, but Paps wasn’t afraid of Edge but _for_ him. Honest concern lit his eyelights and shaped the contours of his face. “you don’t belong there any more than blue or i do.”

Edge dropped his malignant aura, too stunned to maintain it after that. “What?”

“i misjudged you, edgelord,” Paps said, “and i’m sorry for that, but right now, you need to accept the fact that blue and i can’t watch you walk into that hellhole.”

“Not if you’re too hurt to take care of yourself,” Blue added quietly, still worried for him despite Edge’s cruel words. How…? How could he still care for him after Edge had deliberately chosen the exact words to hurt him most?

And Paps…. Edge didn’t even know what to make of Paps right now. He looked between the two of them, completely at a loss. Of course, this only served to further prove that they could not be allowed to accompany him. “Don’t you see…?” he asked, barely noticing how broken his voice sounded, “I’ve seen so many monsters break, so many souls grow dim and dark with lack of hope. You two shine so brightly—“ He swallowed and shut up, realizing he’d already said far too much.

Shaking his head and schooling his features, he said, firmly, “You’re both staying here.” He forced fire and strength back into his voice as he added, “Blue, you are strong and capable in ways that I can only envy—“ He allowed the naked truth of that to seep into his voice. “—but you are not prepared for this. I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to charge head-first into a situation without the training or knowledge you need to maintain your health and wellbeing.”

He turned his gaze on Paps. “As for you,” he said, allowing a harder edge to enter his voice, “you have, what? 5 HP? Better than Red, but you don’t know Underfell. You don’t know how to navigate it like he does, and you don’t know how to talk your way out of trouble like he does. One hit—one smart-ass comment—and you’re dust. I may not like you, but I don’t want you dead. And I know you don’t want to leave Blue unprotected like that.” Paps flinched and looked away, torn.

He looked between them and said firmly, “You’re staying. I’ll be back with Red.” He didn’t allow the possibility that he wouldn’t be back at all to enter his voice, though it hung over his head ominously. He was a Fell monster; the threat of death was ever-present. It barely bothered him anymore.

Paps lowered his arm, and Edge took a step toward the machine but stopped when Blue spoke. “If I can’t come…then tell me what I can do. I can’t just—“ He hugged his abdomen, looking particularly small. “I have to help.” Edge understood the desperation and helplessness in his voice. His hands curled into fists.

He swallowed, trying to think. Finally, he said, “Call Rus. He’s probably pretty wound up after this morning, and he’d appreciate the update. After that, get the first aid kit and breakfast ready. Red….” He took a breath, reminding himself that intent was required to affect a monster’s HP. Red could be hurt—by accident, or by someone that didn’t want him dead—without being dust. Even with the threat of his low HP. “Red may be hurt, and he’d never turn down food.”

“Okay,” Blue said, huddling into Paps’ side. Edge finally reached the machine and punched in the code for Underfell. It whirred to life, a portal opening before him. Before he could step through, a hand caught his shoulder, and he spun, catching Paps by the throat.

“Not a good decision, Ashtray” he said, a little breathlessly, and forced himself to relax and release the other monster. The other skeleton’s sockets were wide as he put a hand on his cervical vertebrae protectively. Edge raised a brow-bone when he stepped forward rather than back, however, impressed despite himself.

“i can teleport,” Paps said abruptly, “if red’s too injured, you have to admit it would come in handy. it’s not bad for fast escapes either, if we get into a tough spot. and-and my kr. i may not have impressive stats, by my kr give me an advantage against monsters with lv.”

“I remember,” Edge couldn’t help saying, smirking when Paps flinched.

He pressed on, though, saying, “i can fight. i’m not—i may not be up to your standards, but i can provide cover. you’ve seen my blasters. and, heh, let’s be honest, huh? if it comes down to my safety or red’s…you and i both know who’s more important.”

“Papy—!” Blue said, sounding shocked, but Edge just lifted a hand to stave off the lecture.

“Don’t, Blue. It’s a Papyrus thing. I just wasn’t aware it applied across universes.” In fact, he wasn’t entirely convinced it did. Sure, he’d march straight into the mouth of Hell for Red or Blue or even Rus’ Sans. But he wasn’t sure if he’d do the same for Razz. The little creep made his bones crawl. Then again, he strongly suspected that Paps had gotten a stronger dose of that particular bit of genetic pre-programming. Either that, or being both the Papyrus and the elder brother had really fucked him up. Actually, that explained a few things. Not just about Blue and Paps, but Razz and Slim too.

Blue looked between the two of them, mildly horrified by that revelation, and Edge suspected he was adding that to the list of things they were going to sit down and discuss when circumstances were less dire. Meanwhile, Edge studied Paps, struck by a sudden spike of admiration. The Tale-verse monster had actually managed to find a chink in his armor, using his practicality and innate protectiveness against him. He wasn’t willing to concede defeat just yet, however.

Marching forward, he poked Paps in the sternum, glaring into his eyelights. “This isn’t your universe,” he said, growling, “We won’t be playing by your rules—we’ll be playing by mine. That means _doing exactly as I say_.” He paused for emphasis and gave Paps’ chest another poke for good measure. “Even if it hurts. Even if it’s humiliating. Know that I will only ask it because it is necessary for your—and my—survival. Not to mention Red’s. You will have to trust me, Swapshit. Not just with your safety but with your dignity. If you can’t handle that, then you’ll be staying here with Blue. Do you understand?”

Give him some credit, Paps actually took a second to think about it. His features were drawn and a little pained, then he nodded firmly. “yes. i can do that.”

Edge nodded once, then looked him up and down. “Do you have anything black? You look like a neon orange sign advertising free EXP.”

Paps hesitated, then said he’d look and took a shortcut back to his room. Blue remained behind, watching Edge. To his shock, the smaller skeleton—despite the anxiety around his sockets and mouth—looked a little more at ease. If his pride was hurt, he didn’t show it. Silently, he held out a hand and Edge carefully took it, expecting him to squeeze the phalanges painfully. He’d deserve it after what he’d said.

He was not prepared for the wave of /WARMTH/AFFECTION/CARE/LOVE/ that surrounded Blue. Edge flinched, as if burned. “Stop,” he said, though he didn’t pull away, “Please. I can’t…I can’t handle it right now.” Blue regarded him with naked confusion, but he allowed the projection to fade.

“Are you okay, Edge?”

Squeezing Blue’s hand, he replied, “No. I can’t…. I need to….” He gestured helplessly, trying to find a way to articulate his thoughts. Finally, he said, “I can’t be Edge right now. I have to be the Great and Terrible Papyrus. Do you understand?”

Somehow, Blue’s wry smile was not as surprising as it should have been. “Yeah,” he said softly, “I do.” They shared a look.

“It must be hard sometimes,” Edge said quietly, “being magnificent.”

“Being terrible would be much harder.”

A small puff of air escaped Edge, not quite a sigh. “I wish it were more difficult, actually.” Then he blocked out Blue’s presence, letting go of his hand, as he put on his mental armor and allowed himself to sink into a familiar mindset.

_(“Yes, dearie~. Just like that. Look how strong you are, how fierce. Ahuhuhu~. You have so much potential, little gutter-rat. Let me show you. Let me teach you.” Magic singing through him, making his soul swell. High off EXP. Dust on his hands. Blood in his mouth. Hating himself for loving this so much.)_

Ready to fight. Ready to kill. Alert and aware and radiating malice and ill intent. He drew on his magic until the ache in his ribs was a distant concern. He shifted his body language, lifting his chin and dropping his shoulders. The familiar smirk was already twisting his features into something harder and crueler. He reached into his inventory and retrieved his scarf. Red had put it away, knowing that it would have upset him while he was recovering.

Undyne’s blood and dust still coated it. Distantly, he was aware that he found that horrifying, but he pushed that emotion to the back of his mind. He should revel in this. It was proof of his prowess. Undyne may have beaten him pretty soundly, but it had cost her dearly. She wouldn’t fuck with him again. She wouldn’t dare. Anyone that tried would find themselves worse off than if they’d simply walked away.

He chuckled darkly, testing out the sound, listening for the necessary notes of cruelty. Nodding to himself, he wrapped the scarf around his neck. The bloodstains wouldn’t stand out from a distance, but anyone that looked carefully would know exactly what they were seeing, and more importantly, how they had gotten there. He’d dealt Undyne a devastating blow; it would be foolish to ignore the resulting boost to his reputation. The Underground would whisper awe-struck words of their confrontation for years to come. All would know his name and shiver as they spoke it.

As it should be.

Later, he would pay for the magic he was using to suppress his pain. Later, when he could afford the luxury of regret and revulsion, he would allow it to come to the fore. Later. Later. Later. Right now, though, he had asses to kick and names to take. By the time Paps teleported back into the room, the horrified screaming of his soul had faded until it was little more than an annoying niggling at the back of his mind, and he could barely hear the protests of his body.

Seeing him, Paps flinched away, apparently startled by the change in his demeanor and the malice bleeding off him. Edge smirked and caught him by the shoulder, not allowing him to escape. He looked the other up and down and nodded approvingly. Paps had managed to find a charcoal-grey hoodie, even if it had orange skull and cross-bone decals running up the left sleeve. “Good enough,” he said, then shoved Paps through the portal, chuckling when he stumbled. “Pick up your feet, Swapshit.”

“Come back safely,” Blue said firmly.

He raised a brow-bone. “Still trying to order me around, pipsqueak? Don’t worry. For one as great and terrible as I, this is hardly a challenge.” He gave a cocky grin and stepped through the portal. The world warped around him, then the portal discharged him into a poorly lit cave. Paps was on the ground to the left, his eyelights the only source of illumination once the machine clicked off.

Edge straightened and brushed himself off, lifting a hand to summon a red bone so that they could have a little light. Paps stood, looking around himself. He reached into his hoodie pocket and produced a pack of cigarettes, but he cursed when he couldn’t find his lighter. “where are we?”

“A small cave just outside the Ruins. It’s not safe to keep the machine at the house.” Edge approached him, looking him up and down now that they were out of Blue’s sight. He took Paps by the chin and started to study him.

“the fuck are you doing—?” Paps asked, struggling a little.

Edge squeezed his jaw, making Paps grunt in pain. “Quiet. I’m thinking.”

“yeah, well, don’t strain yourself.”

Calmly, Edge slapped him. It wasn’t hard enough to do real harm, but it would prove a point. Paps stumbled away, staring at him with wide sockets and hand on his cheekbone. “I told you, Swapshit. One smart-ass comment, and you’re dust. However, my brother has trouble controlling his mouth as well. Most monsters are willing to overlook such slights, if I take the burden of chastisement upon myself. Most. I wouldn’t push my luck, if I were you.”

“you _hit_ me!” he said, sounding more surprised than hurt.

“Are you harmed? No? Then stop complaining and remember what I said—whatever I do here, I do to keep us safe. Learn to roll with the strike, and it won’t sting as badly. I don’t have time to teach you how, so I suggest you learn, instead, to control yourself. I told you, Swapshit, this isn’t your universe. You agreed to play by my rules. Or are you backing out?”

“no, but i didn’t think—“

“That’s just your problem,” Edge said, looking him up and down. “You don’t think. You say whatever stupid comment pops into your empty skull. You agree to terms you haven’t fully considered. I told you that you would have to do as I said. I warned you about making smart comments. We’re in private now, so consider this practice. If you can’t do as I say, then you’ll be going home right now. So, Swapshit.” He leaned forward and smirked cruelly, and allowed his voice to drop to a lower register. “Get on your knees.”

Paps froze, eyelights shrinking to pinpricks. “edge….”

“Uh-uh. Here, I’m Papyrus, but you don’t have permission to call me that. You can call me…” He considered. “ ‘Boss’ would be acceptable, though ‘master’ would be better.” Paps looked between him and the portal. Obligingly, Edge stepped to the side. “Feel free to go home, pet.” Paps jerked, startled by the word. Or perhaps he was disturbed to hear so much venom in what would ordinarily be a term of endearment. “I won’t stop you, but if you want to come with me, you need to prove that you can obey my orders.”

He’d anticipated anger, but Paps wasn’t showing any. Instead, he looked frightened. Good. Edge could work with that. Slowly, Paps lowered himself to the ground, his breathing too fast to be healthy. Edge approached, and Paps visibly swallowed, looking between his face and his pelvis. Edge caught his chin and stared down at him for a few seconds, just studying him. Strangely, the bone under his hand felt a little warm. He waited for Paps to break, to run, to start spouting stupid puns or crude jokes. There was nothing.

 _Good. Maybe he’s starting to realize what he’s gotten himself into_.

“Now, close your eyes~,” he said, faux-sweetly. “I have something for you.” Again, he waited for Paps to break, but he just shut his sockets. Edge traced a gloved claw over Paps’ teeth, and raised a startled brow-bone when Paps’ jaw parted; he hadn’t asked him to do that. “A little eager, aren’t we, pet?” He withdrew his hand, still studying the skeleton kneeling before him. It was hard to see under the red light cast by his bone attack, but was Paps…blushing? He filed that information away for later but disregarded it as irrelevant for now.

Distantly, he felt his soul protesting his behavior, but he ignored it to silently open his inventory and retrieve Red’s old collar. It was worn and dirtier than desirable, but anyone that noticed that would probably assume it was a mark of rank within Edge’s household—Edge foremost, followed by Red, with this skeleton sitting on the bottommost rung. He fastened the collar around his cervical vertebrae, then backed away.

“Alright, get up—you pass.” He adjusted his armor, then started toward the cave’s entrance. “Let’s go.” He pushed the rock out of the way with a grunt, feeling a faint twinge from his battered ribcage.

Paps just stared after him, sweat beading on his brow. “the fuck just happened…?” he asked himself. He reached up, touching the collar and the tag that read ‘Property of Papyrus’. “is this…? did you put a collar on me?” He sounded so appalled that Edge leaned against the now open entryway to regard him, brow-bone cocked.

“You would rather I made you give me a blowjob?” The other skeleton’s sputtering was so amusing that Edge actually cracked a smile. It was a sadistic smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Get moving, pet, or I might change my mind, since you’re so accommodating.”

Paps scrambled to follow him, but when he moved to walk at his side, Edge stuck out a hand. “Two steps behind and on my left. Yes, there. Keep an eye out; we’re outside Snowdin’s walls, so we’re fair game.” He shoved the rock back into place and started toward the path, careful to leave no sign of their passage.

“what does that mean?”

“Fair game?” Paps nodded, and Edge took a breath, reminding himself that it wasn’t the Tale monster’s fault that his universe had left him so damn _sheltered_. “Snowdin and certain parts of the Underground are legally considered safe zones. Places where monsters can reasonably expect to conduct business without fearing for their lives. Of course, how stridently that’s enforced is dependent upon the monster in charge of that area. The safe zones in the capital, for example, are a joke.”

“what about snowdin?”

“Anyone who breaks the peace within Snowdin answers to me. You already know that I far prefer to keep things neat and orderly. However, outside those safe zones, you should expect to be attacked at any time. I take it you can’t shortcut directly to Waterfall from here? Since you aren’t familiar with this universe.”

“yeah, but i can take us back to the machine if something goes wrong.”

Edge nodded. He’d expected that. Ordinarily, he would shield the other skeleton from some of this, but he needed to know for his own safety. “We’ll no doubt encounter EXP hunters along the way. They might be lying in wait or they might be out in the open. Either way, they may or may not ignore us. I’m a known quantity, high in LV and not known for my patience or mercy. However, killing me would give them more EXP, and they may decide to risk it, particularly since I’m injured. If we’re lucky, they’re the worst we’ll come across.”

Paps turned to stare at him. “…if we’re lucky, we’ll only encounter people trying to kill us for EXP. is that what you just said? did i hear that correctly?”

Edge nodded once. “Yes. If we aren’t lucky, we’ll encounter gold-hunters.”

“hey, uh, ‘boss’, i don’t even have any gold on me. don’t think we’ve got much to worry about there.”

Shaking his head, Edge chuckled again. “You’re adorable. If I meant ‘thieves’, I’d have said ‘thieves’. The bigger concern is monsters looking to capture us to either ransom or sell to the highest bidder. Do not let them take you alive—teleport if you can, but I’d go so far as to suggest suicide as a viable option. I have enough enemies that I would really rather not fall into their hands, and you look enough like me that I’m certain they’d happily use you as a substitute to act out their aggressions. You aren’t exactly unappealing on your own, either. A sweet-piece like you would fetch a good price.”

Paps was staring at him with wide sockets, horrified. “stars on fire,” he finally said, “this place is awful. and what the hell is a sweet-piece?”

“You probably don’t want to know. Remember, you’re free to leave at any time, pet. The portal’s only a shortcut away.”

The walked in silence for several minutes, until a flash of magic caught Edge’s attention, and he grabbed Paps’ shoulder and threw them both to the ground. “Stay down!” White ice-sickles—seriously, fuck Snowdrake and his stupid as fuck puns; he was worse than Red—flew overhead. Edge lifted his hand to call up a bone attack, only to smirk when Snowdrake’s soul turned blue and he was flung into the trees, then the ground, and then against the trees once more. Each hit knocked a little HP off his bar—not much, since Snowdrake was only LV 3, but so many hits in quick succession would add up. A surge of pride welled within him. Better still, with his soul caught like that, they could—

Paps released Snowdrake’s soul, and Edge had to work to keep from openly gaping at him. “What are you doing, Swapshit!?” he demanded, leaping to his feet. He threw a wave of bones to keep the snow dragon off balance, not wanting to risk Paps getting hit. He wasn’t trying to actually harm Snowdrake—stars above, he was barely out of stripes, and Edge had 10 LV on him; this wasn’t even a real fight—but he needed to pin the other monster down.

“it’s his turn now, isn’t it?” Paps asked, bewildered.

Edge quickly checked to see if he was trying to be funny at a very inappropriate time, but he looked honestly surprised by Edge’s anger. Grumbling under his breath, Edge finally caged Snowdrake in. The snow dragon fluttered anxiously behind the bones, his small wings unable to give him much lift. Edge approached, arms crossed and brow-bone raised. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asked the small monster.

Snowdrake looked up at him, anxious. “Don’t make me go back!” he wailed, “Please, I know my dad’s looking for me, but don’t make me go back there!” He was openly weeping now. “I can’t go back.” He curled in on himself.

 _Stars above_ …. He should walk away. This wasn’t any of his business. “Enough,” he said sharply, thumb rubbing the ridge of bone between his sockets. “I do not have time for Drake family drama, alright?” Snowdrake’s father was a raging asshole, with LV almost as high as Edge’s, but he didn’t have the control to keep it in check. No one said a word when Snowdrake’s mother had ‘mysteriously’ dusted in the middle of the night. No one said a word when the Drake brothers walked around with bruises and unexplained dips in their HP either.

Edge’s hands were somewhat tied. Asgore wanted his monsters ruthless and cruel. What did he care if daddy Drake wanted to beat his children? If they couldn’t take it, then they were better used as free EXP. According to Asgore, at least. If the king ever caught wind that Edge had interferred, then he’d have to face Red in the Judgement Hall, and he knew how that tore his brother up. That was probably half the reason he was behaving so erratically right now, actually.

Nevertheless, Edge didn’t have to like the situation. Sighing, he asked, “Where’s your brother?”

“I-I don’t know,” Snowdrake said, still crying. “He ran away a few weeks back. I-I’ve been looking for him. I thought we could—“ He sobbed, unable to continue.

Edge crossed his arms. “Stop your sniveling,” he snarled, “What kind of monster are you? Fucking stars. Look, you little pissant, I’m not sending you back, alright? I’m not on duty right now, and frankly, this bullshit is a little below the guard’s concern. Find your brother and stick close. You’ll do better as a team than you will separately. And stop picking fights with monsters 10 LV above you! Asgore’s fucking flowers, it’s like you’re _asking_ to be dusted! You’re lucky I’m in a good mood; I’m going to spare you this time.” He waited a second, studying the weeping snow dragon. “I’m releasing my magic. If you do anything stupid, then consider yourself dust, comedian. Got it?”

Snowdrake nodded pathetically, though he brightened marginally when Edge called him ‘comedian’. With a flick of his hand, Edge’s magic dispersed. He waited tensely, anticipating a counterattack, but Snowdrake ran away, practically tripping over himself in his zeal. “Get to a safe zone, you stars-damned moron!” Edge watched him go, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Then he turned to Paps and snapped, “What the fuck was that!? His soul was blue! You had him—why’d you let him go?”

“what do you mean?” Paps asked, dusting snow off his hoodie. “my attack was finished. it was his turn.”

“That’s the second time you said that—what are you even talking about?”

“combat’s turn based,” he said slowly, as if explaining an obvious fact to an oblivious child, “you have to take turns. he attacks. then i attack. that’s how it works.”

Edge stared at him. “Turn based. Combat. Please tell me you’re fucking with me.”

“…i take it it’s not the same in underfell?”

Stars, Edge was actually too amused to be angry. “You’re seriously saying that Tale-verse monsters attack each other. In turns. I. I don’t even have words for how stupid that is.” A thought struck him. “And what if someone is taking too long to make a decision? What if they just stand there?”

Paps shrugged. “it’s their turn. you can’t interrupt their turn.”

He put his face in his hands and started to laugh. “Fucking stars, Paps. You can’t— You cannot be _serious_. That’s really how it works? Do you just wait for them to eat a candy bar or something if their health is getting low—“ He stopped, seeing the expression on Paps’ face. “No. _No_. You’re joking. I refuse to believe that.”

“what? it works!”

He paused. Then snorted. “Yes, I’m sure it’s an ancient and noble tradition in the Tale-verses. Stars above, I can’t wait to find Red, just so I can tell him about this. It’s too damn hilarious. I’ve half a mind to call Razz. He’d _love_ this. Stars on fire….” Shaking his head, he started forward again, reiterating, “Two steps back and to the left, and let me handle the fighting from now on, pet. Turn-based combat. Asgore’s horns, I can’t even….”

They continued walking, and eventually, Edge said, “I suppose I should thank you. I haven’t laughed like that in…. Stars, I don’t know how long.”

“glad to help, edgelord.”

Edge thought about correcting him, but he decided that ‘edgelord’ was acceptable. He’d never admit it, but he might actually be coming to like that nickname.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential triggers: (unconsummated) sexual coercion, unhealthy mindsets
> 
>  
> 
> So. Fun fact, this little jaunt into Underfell was not pre-planned. Everything else, so far, has had some roots in my original draft. This is unchartered territory for me, so updates might take a little longer, since revisions will take longer too. However, I think this trip through Underfell will make the story ultimately more satisfying. And, honestly, it's thanks to you guys and your feedback--without you guys, Paps, Edge, and Blue would be having a very tense breakfast right now. : )
> 
> Oh, and I have nothing against turn-based combat in games; I actually quite enjoy it. It's just amusing to imagine a fight going down like that in a more realistic setting.


	13. The expected variety of unpleasantness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paps proves he can follow orders and Edge is far too used to this shit.

Paps knew he should have been paying better attention to their surroundings, but he was so off balance it was difficult to do so. This universe was both eerily familiar but also disturbingly alien in so many ways. The ‘map’ was flipped, so rather than moving West, they were moving East, and the lighting wasn’t as steady in Underfell as it was in one of the Tale-verses. It would remain steady and strong for several minutes, then it would suddenly flicker or fade. He was half-convinced the air tasted different too.

(He could not taste dust on the air. That was just his imagination. He was not breathing in the dust of dead monsters. He _wasn’t_.)

Snowdin Forest was, by its nature, cold. However, in the Tale-verses, the chill was crisp and clean. In Underfell, the cold was biting and harsh, sinking deep claws into his bones. Suddenly, he envied Red and Slim their warmer jackets and fluffy hoods. His hoodie was completely inadequate. He glanced at Edge, noting that his armor left his spine and iliac crests exposed. Stars above, that could not be comfortable. He couldn’t even find the immodest display of bones sexy or tantalizing. It just made him want to wrap the other skeleton up in a blanket and give him a hot chocolate or something.

Not that Edge seemed like he would be especially receptive to either blankets or hot chocolate right now. Unlike Paps, Edge was completely focused on their environment, head up and surveying their surroundings like he owned the forest. He should have looked nervous, given the coiled energy in his limbs and the alert brightness of his eyelights. Somehow, though, he gave the impression that he was looking _for_ a fight, rather than looking to avoid one. Perhaps it was the aura of menace he’d carefully cultivated. That probably had something to do with it.

 _how is he not exhausted? projecting like that has to be tiring, and he’s still injured, even if he’s not acting like it._ He wasn’t sure if he was more impressed or concerned. There were ways to suppress pain; it was a common tactic monsters used when fighting. However, it sapped magic steadily, and it really wasn’t meant to be done for long periods of time. Edge couldn’t be doing that, right? He wasn’t that stupid. Right?

He ignored the voice at the back of his head that said, no, Edge wasn’t that stupid—but he was exactly that stubborn.

Suddenly, Edge stopped and threw up a hand, but Paps took another step, earning a low growl. “If I tell you to stop, then you _stop_ ,” the edgelord snapped.

“you didn’t tell me anything—“ he began, but Edge called up a bone construct and jammed it into the ground, just a few steps from Paps’ feet. Spikes rose up out of the ground, causing the construct to disperse. Beyond the rows of spikes, a high-pitched whirring sounded and a sawblade cut through the snow. The click and whine of well-tended machinery came from beneath the snow, and Paps had to guess that there was more to this particular trap than just the spikes and sawblade. “oh.”

“Yes. ‘Oh’. I’m having you walk behind me for a reason, pet—and it’s not so you can ogle my illium.” Edge regarded the field, arms crossed. His irritated expression smoothed out into a smug smile. He allowed himself a brief, satisfied sigh, then he motioned to a distant flag. “See that? That’s Red’s marker. Teleport us there and we can bypass the traps.”

“right. i think i can do that.”

“You better. I don’t think a lazybones like you could withstand one of my expertly constructed traps,” he said, practically purring with self-satisfaction. It should have been annoying rather than endearing, but Paps found himself fighting down a smile. _shit. he’s even posing._ Edge dropped the pose to clamp a hand over Paps’s shoulder. “Well? Get—“ Paps took a shortcut. “—moving.” Edge blinked, momentarily dazed, then nodded. “See?” he asked, smirking, “Isn’t it better when you obey?”

“depends on how you reward me later,” Paps said cheekily, winking just in case his flirting was too subtle.

Edge eyed him. “Don’t make promises you don’t plan to keep, pet.” Then he started forward again, leaving Paps to gape after him. Okay. Maybe he could find the show of bones a little sexy, despite the cold. Only a little. Swallowing down the magic that had gathered in his mouth, he hurried to take up his designated place again.

_(A claw on his teeth, asking—demanding—entrance. Afraid to give it, knowing that Edge was only doing this to punish him. Wanting to give it, hoping for something he couldn’t name.)_

He tried to push that memory away; he didn’t even want to attempt to undo the Gordian knot of emotions that little scene had inspired. He hadn’t known that a person could both want and fear something at the same time, but if he was being honest with himself, Edge had managed to inspire both. The fear, at least, seemed to have been misplaced; it appeared that Edge had been testing him rather than punishing him. The attraction, on the other hand, he was probably stuck with. At least until he got it out of his system.

 _(“ ‘less yer just lookin’ fer a quick fuck…”) damn it, red…._ Somehow, he thought that might exacerbate things, rather than make things better. Red might be right—Tale-verse monsters probably did have some difficulty separating sex and love. More so than Fell-verse monsters, at least.

Forcing that line of thinking away, he continued to follow Edge through Snowdin Forest. A few more times, Edge would halt him with a raised hand and point out a flag in the distance, so that Paps could teleport them past the traps. They avoided the sentry stations the same way. On a few notable occasions, Edge would pause and point out disturbed snow and other indicators that they were passing a hunter’s blind. “EXP hunters,” he said.

“if we’re lucky.”

Edge smirked. “You’re catching on.” But nobody came, though they passed several such blinds. “We’re high reward,” Edge explained when Paps asked, “but high risk as well. The hunters in Snowdin forest are usually smart enough to keep their heads down when I pass by. We probably won’t be as lucky once we reach Waterfall.”

The mindset, let alone the Fell approach to fighting, was so alien to Paps. Sure, in certain parts of his Underground, monsters would leap out at you and pull you into a duel, but most only required a bit of flirting or maybe a joke—or for you to listen to theirs—and they’d carry on their merry way. The ‘fights’ in his Underground were, largely, all in good fun, even when monsters exchanged actual attacks. No one wanted to hurt anyone else, not really.

It was a ritualized form of socialization more than anything. Sure, if you wanted to be a dick about it, you could go through the Underground beating everyone up, but that wasn’t how it was supposed to be done. That’s why turn-based combat worked in the Tale-verses; everyone was there to have a good time, so everyone played by the rules.

His first taste of Fell-verse fighting had really made him realize exactly how different this Underground was from his own. There had been no playful banter between Edge and Snowdrake. ‘Felldrake’, as Paps had started mentally referring to him, hadn’t even made any jokes! Paps’ Snowdrake was always up for a bit of punning. Felldrake had just attacked them out of nowhere, driven by desperation and fear, believing that Edge—a royal guard—was there to drag him back to his father. Paps couldn’t forget seeing the little Fell monster weeping in the snow, begging Edge not to make him go back.

Things were rough between Swapdrake and his dad, but Paps couldn’t ever imagine a scene like that playing out in a Tale-verse. The Fell-verse duel hadn’t been fun. It hadn’t possessed any of the elements of playful ritual evident in Tale-verse battles. Rather, there was only despair and terror—

But there had been Mercy too. Edge hadn’t been nice about it. In fact, he’d been a complete jackass, but the edgelord had, ultimately, let the smaller monster go. With a bit of advice, no less. Somehow, though, he doubted that Edge would be so merciful if they were fighting EXP hunters or worse. Paps shuddered, not looking forward to that. He was actually starting to ~~like~~ tolerate the edgelord, despite his LV. Paps wasn’t sure that newfound forbearance could survive witnessing the other monster actually take a life.

They turned a corner, and Paps started; there was a bridge and beyond that, Snowdin. Rather than a welcome sign, though, the first sight of Snowdin was a tall wall, constructed of cinderblocks, sheet metal, and broken boards. Jagged bits of glass glinted from the top of the wall in addition to the rolls of razor wire. As they got closer, he could feel the warding surrounding the town, projecting /UNWANTED/UNWELCOME/GO AWAY/ like a strike to his soul. It twitched and jerked uneasily in response. Outside the wall, a guard shack was set up beside an open gate.

Edge reached back to catch him by the collar and yank him forward. Instinctively, Paps dug in his heels, put off balance by the warding and the general atmosphere of this entire fucked-up universe. Edge chuckled at his—unsuccessful—resistance. “Cute, pet, but don’t embarrass yourself. Before we go in, I want to go over a few reminders.” He jerked Paps nearer, so they were socket-to-socket and close enough to kiss. Though, Edge seemed to have less pleasant matters on his mind.

“First,” he said, “keep your mouth shut. Let me do the talking. Second, play scared. It will keep anyone from thinking of you as a threat, and it will keep their attention on me rather than you. Finally, if anyone attacks you, don’t hold back and don’t stop hitting them until they’re dead or they beg for mercy. Everyone here has at least a little LOVE, so you shouldn’t have a problem shedding some dust.”

Paps wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that last comment, but he had a more pressing concern at the moment. “I thought Snowdin was a safe zone?”

“I’m the one that enforces that law. It’s only as strong as I am, and my presence in Snowdin has been limited the last couple days. Red said that things haven’t dissolved into complete anarchy in my absence, but we need to be prepared for anything.”

“come on, edgelord. you think the whole place is going to collapse while you’re out of town?” he asked, trying not to laugh at his counterpart’s arrogance.

Edge gave a one-shouldered shrug. “They don’t exactly have a good track record,” he said sourly, “For decades, it was also known as ‘Dustdin’. Until I cleaned the place up, that is.” Edge’s eyelights grew dim. “If I do anything that you consider questionable,” he said softly, “do not interfere. This is my universe—this is _my_ town. Trust me to know best how to handle the matter.”

For just a second, he looked away, and Paps saw a flicker of the same skeleton that had called him and Blue ‘bright’ as if it hurt him to say so. Then it was gone, and Edge growled at him, “Don’t give me a reason to hurt you, pet. Red and I have to live here after you are gone, and reputation is everything in Underfell. I will do whatever I must to maintain our safety and the relative peace of this place. Have I made myself clear?”

Paps blinked, a little startled by the flash of vulnerability—so quickly followed by a threat. “i’ll play nice,” he said, “…boss.”

Edge’s smile was feral and not a little frightening. “Good pet,” he said, stroking a thumb over the cartilage between Paps’ vertebrae. He sucked in an unsteady breath, not anticipating that. Edge seemed to find that amusing. He released Paps, chuckling, and started toward the guard shack. “Keep up,” he said over his shoulder when Paps didn’t follow him immediately.

As they approached the guard shack, excited whimpers sounded and two huge dogs in armor and carrying equally huge battleaxes came rushing out of the guard shack. “Boss! (Boss!) Boss!” they exclaimed excitedly, tails wagging. Paps took a step back, startled by their exuberance. Unfortunately, they immediately focused in on him and stopped short, ducking their heads and sniffing. They growled in tandem. The fur on the backs of their necks rose, and they split apart to circle around Edge to get a better look at Paps. (“Smells like—“)

“—honey and bones.”

“Enough,” Edge barked, bringing them up short. He reached out a hand, and Dogaressa sniffed it delicately before wagging her tail. She leaned in so he could scratch behind her ear.

“Me too!” Dogamy said, rushing forward until Edge was scratching both dogs. Dogamy made a sound between a whine and a groan, leg shaking a little. “Missed you, Boss.”

(“Yeah! Missed you. Sooo much!”)

“I hear that you two put GD back in his place,” Edge said, smirking.

“Yeah, boss!”

(“We did!”)

“Good job,” he said, “You both did very well. Here—I have a treat for the two of you.” He reached into his inventory—Paps, who rarely used his own inventory, forgot it existed most of the time, was actually starting to wonder about that; did Edge just carry random crap around with him, thinking it might come in handy at some point?—and pulled out a pair of dog treats. He tossed one to Dogamy and one to Dogaressa, earning more happy barks and yips. Paps had to hide a grin; this scene was all too familiar. The Underswap canine unit reacted the same way to Alphys when she came to visit.

Eventually, the two dogs calmed down enough for Edge to ask, “Has the runt been through today?” He managed to sound disinterested, like he was asking about the weather.

“Yeah, Boss.”

(“This morning. Early-early.”)

“Ah. Any idea where he went?”

“Yeah! Yeah!”

(“He asked where he could find—“)

“A fish market!”

Paps blinked. Well. That was a weird one, even for Red. “Hmm. Thank you,” Edge said, scratching each of them once more. “Keep an eye out for him. He’s in trouble, and I’m trying to track him down.” He injected a note of menace into that last statement, grinning cruelly.

The Dogi chuckled darkly, and Paps suddenly remembered that, despite their surprisingly familiar behavior, they were indeed Fell monsters. “Yeah, Boss.”

(“Whatever you need.”)

“Anything.”

(“Just ask.”)

Their fierce loyalty, which had been precious just moments ago, was suddenly terrifying. This universe just kept blindsiding him. Every time he thought he’d found something familiar to latch onto, the floor would suddenly drop out from under him. “Good dogs,” Edge said, then made as if to start toward the gate but paused abruptly. “One more thing.”

They were nearly jumping in place, eager to please, ready for his orders. “What is it, Boss?”

(“What do you need? Tell us!”)

“Ice Wolf has been looking for some assistance, hasn’t he?”

The Dogi glanced at each other. Then shrugged. “Dunno, Boss.”

(“Haven’t heard that, Boss. But you know best!”)

“Yeah! Boss knows _everything_!” Paps was beginning to see why Edge tolerated their enthusiasm so well.

Edge studied his claws nonchalantly. “I believe the Drake brothers may be looking for work. They’re out of stripes, now, and out of their father’s house. They’ll require gainful employment, and Ice Wolf could use the help,” he said, just as casually as when he’d asked about Red. Paps worked not to gape at him.

The Dogi, apparently, were a lot smarter than they seemed at first. Their tails started wagging faster, and they whined excitedly. “Yeah, Boss!”

(“We’ll talk to him!”)

“And to Ice Cap!”

(“He’ll know where—“)

“The brothers are hiding!”

“Very good,” Edge said, glancing at them sidelong. “Oh, and if their father makes a fuss…kindly remind him that I will not tolerate anyone disrupting such important work.” There was another round of ‘yeah, boss’ and Edge offered them a feral grin. “Good dogs,” he said once more, “I knew I could count on you two.” Then Edge was moving toward the town again, and Paps had to walk past the Dogi. Though they’d apparently forgotten about him while Edge had their attention, they focused in on him immediately, sniffing curiously.

“Honey and bones.”

It took him a second to realize that Dogamy was addressing him and not just making an observation. “uh? yeah?”

(“Stick close to Boss.”)

“Yeah. Stick close.”

(“Sweet-pieces like you—“)

“—don’t stay sweet for long in Snowdin.”

He swallowed, looking between the two of them. “uh. right. th-thank you?”

They glanced at each other and chuckled cruelly. (“Pretty sweet-piece.”)

“So polite.”

(“You’re lucky you’ve got Boss.”)

“Or we’d have _you_.”

“Pet!” Edge snapped, “What’d I say? Two paces behind—no more, no less. Move your lazy ass before I decide to carry you!” Paps edged past the Dogi, trying to ignore the avarice in their eyes.

He caught up to Edge, who asked under his breath, “How are you, Swapshit?”

“fine,” he said, a little breathlessly.

“I need an honest answer. If you break on me, we’re both in trouble. Rate your current mental state from one to five—five being the best and one being the worst.”

It was a little surprising, but being forced to think of it like that actually made him take a moment to consider the question. “three,” he said. “not great, not good, but I’m okay.”

“Let me know immediately if you drop to a two or a one,” Edge said, making it clear that the matter wasn’t up for debate.

“you got it, boss,” he replied, belatedly realizing that the ‘boss’ came a lot easier that time and it barely sounded sarcastic. Given Edge’s smirk, he seemed to have realized the same thing. He didn’t tease about it, though, just walked beneath the makeshift portcullis to enter Snowdin proper. Paps followed him in and had to force himself to stay just two steps behind.

He was prepared for the bleak atmosphere, he thought. He wasn’t surprised that there were no Gyftmas lights, no Gyftmas tree. He wasn’t even surprised to see that the few monsters out and about kept their heads down and looked ready to fight anyone that dared challenge them. The posters, however, were a bit of a shock.

Propaganda posters littered the interior wall around the town. They were posted, too, on the buildings’ windows and walls—any available vertical surface really. Most said things like “Mercy is for the Weak” or showed images like that of a bulky monster plowing into a crowd of fleeing humans, blood and dust spraying everywhere despite the fact that humans didn’t dust when they died.

He paused outside the Shop, a chill working its way down his spine. The notice posted next to the boarded up window depicted Asgore’s black trident, the tongs grey with dust, on a red field. The phrase “Use the Weak to Make the Strong” overlaid the image. Beneath the poster, someone had scribbled “For free EXP, call—“ Paps swallowed. That was Red’s number. For some reason, that bit of graffiti really shook him.

Edge, noting that he wasn’t following as closely, sighed aloud. “Pet, we’re going to have to talk about—“ He saw the graffiti and growled. He pulled off a glove and set a claw against the numbers, raking the tip of his phalange over the wall until the lettering was obliterated. Seeing Paps’ distant expression and too-fast breathing, he pulled the glove back on and set his hand over Paps’ neck, fingers hooked beneath the collar. “Since you seem incapable of following basic instructions,” he snarled, “I’ll just have to guide you.”

His words and tone were harsh, but his fingers were gentle and soothing. Under his breath, Paps whispered, “two.” A finger ran soothingly over the cartilage even as Edge marched him down the street. Monsters looked up at their approach, and scrambled out of the way, looking frantic. As they passed, Paps could hear a couple whisper to each other.

“—hear what he did to—?”

“—above, look at the poor sweet-piece—”

Then they were past, and Paps heard no more. He barely noticed when Edge pushed him into an igloo. “Red’s set up a permanent shortcut here,” Edge said quietly, “it’ll drop us right outside the house.” Paps was hardly aware of the shift as they passed through. He allowed Edge to shove him out of the mouth of another igloo and usher him into a familiar shed.

He only registered the fact that they were inside when Edge shut the door and guided him to the floor, his menacing aura fading as he did so. “Swapshit? Paps? Talk to me,” Edge said, not quite an order but almost.

Paps realize that he was shaking. “h-how do you stand it?” he asked quietly.

“This is my universe,” he said wryly, “I’m used to it. Your universe is actually rather unnerving in my opinion. Everyone’s too nice. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“no,” Paps said, shaking his head, “having red here. knowing his health is so low. blue, at least, has high hp. how do you keep from losing it, knowing that everyone here thinks of him as free exp? knowing he could dust so easily?” His knees were drawn up to his chest, his arms looped over the top. Edge studied him before answering carefully.

“You need to have faith, Swapshit,” he said quietly, “Sans is stronger than you think he is, and anyone that thinks my brother is an easy target is in for a rather nasty surprise.” He reached out a hand but didn’t make contact. “May I touch you?”

“why are you asking permission? i thought i was your ‘pet’ here.”

“We’re in private, and you already know what I expect of you—there’s no need to test you further. Besides, it’s a courtesy I offer Red, and he’s a great deal more comfortable with me than you are.”

“yeah. sure. whatever” Paps said, too emotionally wrung out to try sorting through his feelings on this. Edge’s hand pressed lightly on his clavicle, where his chest and neck joined, and Paps felt him projecting /Strength/Stability/Security/Control/. Paps shuddered and leaned into the touch. He hadn’t even realized how much he needed that until it was offered.

“You can shortcut back to the machine at any time,” Edge reminded him, “or you can shortcut back here, if you just need a quick break. The cage—“ he gestured to the prison behind him, “—locks from the outside, but this door locks from the inside. I’m the only one with a key, and there’s nothing interesting enough in here to incite anyone to try breaking in. You’re safe in here, Swapshit, if things get overwhelming.”

Between the touch and the gentle reminder, Paps felt a great deal better. It didn’t bring him back up to normal, but it did bring him back to the point he thought he could continue without having a breakdown. “hey, edge,” Paps said, wanting to reciprocate somehow, “about earlier. that thing with snowdrake. it was nice of you to—“

Edge’s expression immediately closed off, his softer expression replaced with a sneer. “No. It wasn’t.”

“come on, edgelord. that’s not a bad thing. you’re allowed to be—“

“I wasn’t being _nice_ , Swapshit,” Edge hissed, “and if you start expecting me to be, you’re going to be severely disappointed. I nudged a few pieces into place. That’s all. I created an opportunity; it’s up to the Drake brothers to take it or not. They’ll be doing the work. They’ll have to make their own way, fight their own battles. I didn’t do anything.”

Paps studied him, trying to figure out the skeleton in front of him. Was this a Fell-verse thing? Some bit of propaganda he’d internalized? Something like “Kindness is Weakness, Cruelty is Strength”? Or was this an Edge thing? Either way, Paps didn’t understand, couldn’t understand.

Then again, perhaps he didn’t need to. “well, that’s a relief,” he said, “i was worried i’d have to start treating you like an actual person. glad i can keep being an asshole. moral crisis averted.”

Edge’s expression eased out of the aggressive sneer and into one of his almost smiles. Paps’ soul did _not_ start humming when he saw that expression and realized he was the cause of it. Absolutely not. And he wasn’t holding back a purr, either. “Good. I’d hate to make things difficult for you,” Edge said, still almost-smiling. “Are you ready? We still have to fetch my brother.”

“yeah. i’m, uh, back at three. any idea where’s he’s run off to?”

“Yes. Why he would be looking for a _fish market_ eludes me, but I suspect it has something to do with our resident fish-monster.”

“undyne?”

Edge’s grin was feral. “Brace yourself, Swapshit. Looks like you get to meet the Captain of Underfell’s Royal Guard. She can be…intense. Let’s go.” If he was at all nervous about meeting up with the monster that had shattered his ribcage, he was doing a good job of hiding it. He stood and offered a hand, hauling Paps to his feet. Edge took a breath, and Paps actually saw him put on his ‘game face’. It was honestly a little unnerving to watch. “A warning, pet. Don’t look at the house. The door’s kicked in, and it’s obviously been ransacked. It looks enough like your house that you might find it upsetting.”

Paps paused, watching as Edge adjusted his scarf. “and you don’t?”

“I’d have been surprised if it wasn’t, and then I’d have another set of things to worry about. I’d much rather be met with the expected variety of unpleasantness than an unexpected variety.”

“…you expected to have your home broken into?” Paps asked, horrified.

“It’s not home, Swapshit. It’s a building with stuff in it. A place to eat and sleep. And, yes, it was expected—the King’s Guard always gets a little overenthusiastic when they’re playing messenger.”

The reminder made Paps go still, but he didn’t say anything. He was still determined to keep the Fell-verse monsters safe in his home universe. Hearing Edge say that their house wasn’t a ‘home’ gave him hope, but he didn’t doubt the other monster would make things difficult nontheless. He’d definitely need Blue’s help—but first, he’d have to figure out how to convince Blue that he only had Edge’s best interests at heart. Somehow. Now was not the time to be thinking about that mess, however. First, they had to find Red, then he’d worry about keeping the both of them safe.

They stepped out into the snow, Paps two steps behind as ordered. He shuddered, aware of the biting cold all over again. As they made their way toward the far gate, he became aware of all the pitying glances cast his way. Between Edge calling him ‘pet’ and the things the Dogi had said, he had a pretty good idea why. At the end of this, he was going to have to ask Edge, again, to explain _exactly_ what a ‘sweet-piece’ was. If only so he could hear Edge try to say that he’d been allowing everyone they encountered to think that Paps was his sex-slave. Considering how easily he blushed at a bit of flirting, that should be at least a little amusing.

After the trip through this hellhole, Paps would be due for a good laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm enjoying this jaunt through Underfell waaaay too much. Hope you guys are enjoying it just as much as I am. Fair warning--I'm not going to have access to my computer/internet for several days, so don't expect an update until sometime after next Wednesday.


	14. A bit of a tight spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge does not appreciate confined spaces, and Fell monsters give terrible dating advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the end notes for potential triggers.

As they marched through the heavy mist, Edge took the time to re-center himself, slipping more deeply into the Fell-verse mindset that had kept him and his brother alive all these years. He could not afford to be weak in Waterfall. He had almost no presence here, no reputation—except as Undyne’s ally, and he couldn’t count on that characterization right now. A few enterprising monsters, hoping to get in good with the Captain, might even attempt to bring them to her, and he had no idea what his reception would be like. Undyne was intense, yes, but unpredictable as well.

It didn’t surprise him that Red would seek her out, but he had been absent for more than 3hrs now and that was excessive, even for Red. He couldn’t help but suspect that things had gone badly, that Undyne was still angry, that Red was—

He took a breath. Refocused himself. Edge could not afford to deal in what-ifs right now. Instead, he turned his attention to their surroundings, searching for signs of ambush. He couldn’t read the signs here as well as he could in Snowdin Forest, but Undyne hadn’t left him ignorant.

They passed Red’s Waterfall station, and Paps stopped. Again. “Stars on fire, pet—what part of ‘two steps behind’ is difficult for you?” he asked, but his voice faded as he took in the other skeleton. His sockets were too wide, and he was fumbling for a lighter that wasn’t there.

 _No wonder everyone thinks he’s my sweet-piece_ , he thought. A monster couldn’t retain this kind of innocence in Underfell…not without bargaining for a stronger monster’s protection. A sweet-piece, caught young, might be kept locked away from the violence of the Underground. Carefully cultivated and protected, that innocence, that ‘sweetness’ could be a source of novelty for a jaded Fell monster. He knew more than a few monsters that found it ‘stimulating’.

There were many reasons Paps’ and Sans’ coddling left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Pet,” he said, somewhat gently, “Get moving.”

Paps looked at him and gestured to the destruction. “this is where it happened, then? the fight with undyne?” Edge eyed the remains of Red’s station, the timber shattered and the surrounding floor scorched. Even the snow Red _somehow_ kept on the roof of his station at all times and locations—just to annoy Edge, he was pretty sure—had melted away to nothing. ( _Magic and marrow mixing with the snow—_ ) Large cracks had formed in the rock face. The few echo flowers that hadn’t been cut down in the devastation were repeating screams, though one seemed to be saying, “c’mon, boss! let’s _go_!” There was still blood and marrow on the ground.

He pushed down the part of himself that was horrified by the renewed reminder of his fight with Undyne…and what he’d done to her. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” he said, “it’s unbecoming. Come on, pet; we’ve got a job to do, in case you’ve forgotten.” The reminder galvanized the other monster, and he fell into his place as Edge continued down the hallway.

They crossed the first bridge without difficulty. Briefly, he paused in front of one of Alphys’ hidden cameras, not sure if she was watching or not. Or how she felt about him at the moment either. Still, Undyne wasn’t the type for sneak attacks—even if she was angry, she would face him head-on. No, between the Captain and the Lieutenant, Edge was the one that was far more likely to strike from the rear.

Paps seemed to be settling down now. “Give me your number, pet.”

“three,” he said, and Edge nodded to himself, mentally revising his opinion of the other skeleton. He was taking this romp through Underfell a lot better than Edge would have guessed. He’d allowed the Dogi to harass him without any backtalk, and though he’d been disturbed by some of the things they’d seen, he was still fairly steady. That was good. Honestly, Edge would have been worried if he _hadn’t_ been fazed by the differences in their universes. Paps wasn’t stupid…but he was brave. And Edge could respect that.

Even if his idea of combat was hilarious. Edge was never going to get over that.

As they crossed a river using the bridge-flowers that bloomed in the area, Paps looked around, saying, “your waterfall isn’t what i was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?”

“…i don’t know. more dust? this place is actually kind of beautiful. even peaceful.”

Edge shook his head, though he too noted the glimmer of ‘starlight’ reflecting off the mist at the waterfall’s base. “I told you there were bright spots,” he said, then warned, “but don’t get distracted. It may be pretty, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t hidden dangers here. Stay alert.”

Paps nodded, but he was obviously still distracted. Edge rolled his eyelights and continued to survey the area. Tale-verse monsters. Honestly. He ignored the niggling jealousy at the back of his mind. He couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to actually live in a Tale-verse. _Stars, I’d probably lose my mind from boredom_.

As they walked, unformed fear suddenly gripped the base of Edge’s spine. _Something’s wrong_. He shoved Paps behind him and searched their surroundings. “what are you—?”

“Shhh!” Stars, he missed having Red at his back. His brother understood. His brother didn’t need to have everything explained to him. He _knew_. And Red was a good deal more useful to have at his side as well. Low laughter rang through the cavern, and the unformed fear solidified. His breathing grew steady and even as his body readied itself for a fight.

“Shit,” he muttered. Well, their good luck had to run out sooner or later. “Follow my orders,” he reiterated under his breath, “and teleport out of here if things go south. I am _not_ bringing you back to Blue in a jar.” Paps swallowed nervously, but his eye was lit and magic crackled around his fingers.

Good.

“Well, well, well,” a gecko monster said as she and another gecko monster climbed down the wall. A water elemental flowed out of a nearby pool, while a fourth monster that appeared to be a mix of crab and octopus pulled itself out of a crevice in the rock. “Look what we found,” the gecko said, “a pretty little sweet-piece and a slam-piece too. And they look like a matching set. Bet they’d fetch a good—“

Calling up his magic, Edge summoned bones to knock the geckos off the wall, earning pained cries for both the bones and the impact. Paps summoned a showy wave of bones to strike at the water elemental, who simply dropped their shape to dodge before reforming when the bones were past. The crabtopus waved a tentacle and crab claws formed from nowhere to snap at them. Edge struck at them with a bone-club. On meeting his magic, the claws fizzled and popped out of existence.

The four gold-hunters obviously weren’t expecting _quite_ this much trouble, but they’d caught the scent of money to be made and weren’t going to give up easily. Edge cursed under his breath. In ordinary circumstances, he would be more than these four could handle, but right now, his magic was half-spent—if he was being generous—and he was injured.

Besides, he did not have time for this bullshit.

Sockets narrowed, Edge grabbed Paps’ wrist and whisper-hissed, “When I say ‘three’, fire your blaster on that pool and keep firing.” Thankfully, Paps didn’t argue, though Edge wasn’t sure he understood the instruction fully either. He didn’t have time to verify, though. Either way, Paps called up his blaster, orange magic building in its mouth. “One,” he said, watching their attackers creep closer even as they eyed the blaster warily. They could count, though, and they saw that there was only one blaster and four of them.

“Two.” He called up his magic, determined to make this count. “Three!” Paps fired on the pool of water, causing steam to rise. Simultaneously, Edge released four blue bones, striking each opponent square in the chest. All four halted, obviously puzzled that they hadn’t been harmed by either attack.

Then, with a _ping!_ their souls turned blue, and they knew something was wrong. “You’re blue now,” he said smugly, steam billowing around him, “and that means you’re _mine!_ ” He closed his hand into a fist, catching the threads of magic that bound their souls to him, and threw them into the wall, the floor, the wall, and the floor. His hand shook with the strain of controlling four souls at once, and he allowed himself a relieved sigh when he released them.

The water elemental drooped into a puddle, and the other three groaned. The steam washed over them, hiding them from view, and Edge grabbed Paps’ wrist and _ran_. Through a hallway; past bits and pieces of a prophesy someone had chiseled away long ago; over a bridge, their footsteps pounding against the wooden boards. He heard shouting behind them as their attackers roused, the blue magic wearing off.

Paps was starting to flag, and Edge silently cursed his unhealthy habits—at least he could typically carry Red, but he wasn’t in any shape to haul the other skeleton over his shoulder right now. He couldn’t blame Paps alone, though; his injuries were starting to slow him too. _Damn it!_ He’d have to try a new strategy. Tall grass loomed before them, and he nodded to himself. It would have to do.

They reached the tall grass, and Edge shoved Paps down, using it as a cover to seek out a crevice in the rock wall. Thank the stars they were skeletons. He shoved Paps in first, and snapped, “Quiet!” when Paps protested. He forced himself in after, uncomfortably aware of the press of the rock around them. His ribs ached, despite the magic he spent to suppress the pain. Paps’ elbow jammed into his spine, and a knee was pressed uncomfortably against his pelvis. He shifted, trying to get into a more comfortable position, but only managed to trap an arm between his damaged ribs and Paps’ sternum.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, “don’t make a sound.” He hoped he’d covered the anxiety in his own voice. He was too aware of the claustrophobic press of the walls, the uncomfortable closeness of another monster. His fight-or-flight instincts were still active, and he wanted—badly—to shove the other monster away…but he breathed slow and deep, trying to stay rooted in the moment. _It’s just Swapshit. Just Paps. It’s fine._

_(Muffet stumbling into the kitchen unexpectedly. Looking up, flour smeared over his apron and his face. Blue ichor dripping from a cut on her cheek, several eyes swollen shut. One leg dragging behind her. Blood on her hands and around her mouth.)_

Paps shifted, and Edge managed to worm his trapped hand upward, sneaking a few fingers beneath the borrowed collar. He tugged on it warningly. _Stay still_ , he commanded silently, ordering himself as much as the other monster.

_(Stopping his work and brushing flour from his hands. His joints gritty with trapped sugar. “ ‘r ya—“ Stopping. Correcting himself. “Are you okay?” Predatory eyes focusing on him._

_“How…sweet of you to ask, dearie.”)_

Pounding footsteps outside, getting closer. He pressed his hand flat against Paps’ cervical vertebrae. _Stay still_. _Don’t speak. Don’t move_. Biting down to keep his breathing even and steady and silent.

 _(Lame leg dragging behind her as she drew closer. Catching him by the cheekbone. Slapping him when he flinched. “You know better than that, dearie.” He did. He knew better. The upper set of hands cupping his face as the lower set grabbed his pelvis. Blood and ichor smearing across his bones. Feeling sick. Feeling unclean and scared and small and_ trapped. _)_

Grass crunched outside the crevice. “You two, keep going. See if they’re up ahead. You, search the area. Don’t let them escape. Those two ‘pieces will fetch good money, especially if we sell them together.”

He squeezed the vertebrae under his hand in warning, even as his soul started to pulse with adrenaline.

_(Being pulled in, crushed against her larger body. One lower leg wrapping around both of his. Held prisoner. Kept captive. Tentatively returning what felt like it would have been a hug if it wasn’t so intensely unpleasant. Being squeezed, wondering if maybe he’d actually done something right. “It’s, um, it’s okay. Everything will be okay.” Speaking reassuringly, with as much confidence as he could muster.)_

Paps’ leg twitched, probably cramping from being locked in place for so long. More footsteps sounded outside their crevice.

_(Muffet pulling back and smiling sweetly at him. “Lesson time, dearie.” His skull being slammed into the granite countertop. Feeling it crack. Marrow and magic seeping from the wound. Being too stunned for coherent thought. Thinking, absently, that the cookies would be ruined now. “There are three kinds of people in this world, little Papyrus.” His skull being ground into the counter. Sugar and flour and frosting in his socket, in the fresh crack in his skull. Whimpering. “Those who allow themselves to be taken, hoping to be treated sweetly.”)_

“Come out, come out, pretty sweet-piece. I got sumthin’ fer ya!” Cruel laughter followed the call.

 _(“Those who fight tooth and claw only to be taken anyway, left for dust when all is said and done.”_ )

“Hey, boss! I got sumthin’!” Edge’s breathing ratcheted up as he readied himself for a fight.

 _(“And those who do the taking.” Muffet pulling him up only to slam him into the granite once more, widening the crack. “Which are you, Papyrus? Are you going to keep acting like I’m your friend? Your teacher? Are you going to keep letting me do this to you? Are you ever going to fight back?”_ )

“See ‘em? They’re really jammed in there.” More cruel laughter.

“Think you can get them out?”

 _(Her hand pressing against the base of his spine, bending him awkwardly over the counter. “Let me tell you a little secret, dearie.” Muffet leaning over him, hand on the back of his skull, mouth by his acoustic meatus. “It doesn’t_ matter _if you offer yourself up willingly. There is no sweetness in this world. The outcome is the same either way, so it’s better to go down fighting. Because I’ve got another secret for you.”)_

“Sure, boss. No pro’lem. Jus’ gimme a sec.” A multi-lobed eye appeared in the crevice’s opening.

 _(Her hand pressing into his skull until he thought it would burst open. “Everyone gets taken at some point. Everyone gets knocked down. Everyone gets kicked around, gets pissed on and marked up. Everyone has scars, dearie. So stop being so_ fucking _precious. Stop being so_ sweet _, and start leaving some marks of your own. Or this world will grind you between its teeth until all that remains of you is marrow and bone-paste.”)_

Edge held up his free hand and shot a red bone straight into the monster’s eye, earning a scream and a series of curses. “Fuckin’ slam-piece! Fuck! Tha’s my fuckin’ _eye_ you little _bitch_!”

 _(“So which will you be? Show me some_ teeth! _Show me your_ claws! _Or should I just sell you? Asgore would love a sweet little thing like you, and he takes good care of his harem…until he doesn’t, of course. Or…” Feeling her smile against the back of his skull. “…maybe…”_ )

The crabtopus’s wailing turned into a low growl. “Oh, yer gonna regret that, fucker.” Tentacles shot into the crevice, wrapping around his arm and spine, the hooks in the center of each suction cup biting into Edge’s bones.

_(“…maybe I’ll sell your little pet.” Horror rushing through him. The threat cutting deeper than any threat against his own person ever could. “Oh, yes. I know plenty of monsters that would get off on fucking a little thing like him—all pliant and unresponsive and silent. Oh, yes. Ahuhuhu~. That’s exactly—“_

_Menace radiating from him, called up from some corner of his soul he hadn’t know existed. Willing his magic to take shape. A fierce skull staring down at them, red magic flickering in its sockets and mouth._

“D O N ‘ T  T O U C H  M Y  B R O T H E R.”)

He clawed and bit and stabbed at the tentacles, shredding them beneath his assault. Blue ichor smeared across his gloves and his skull. The crabtopus snarled, but he was suppressing his pain now and didn’t relent. Edge had limited range of motion and he couldn’t shift enough to free his other hand, but he attacked anything that came into range.

 _(“Ahuhuhu~!” Hands pulling him up. A genuine smile. “Oh, dearie~. I_ knew _you had it in you.” Feeling, somehow, like he had just lost.)_

A tentacle wrapped around his neck and tugged. _Fuck_. He tried to extract himself from Paps, hoping to give him the chance to teleport away. No reason for both of them to—

Outside their crevice, screams suddenly erupted. Edge sunk his claws into the tentacle as it tried to free itself, knowing the crabtopus would be vulnerable to whatever was out there in this position. The other monster tried to pull away, tried to free itself so it could escape, but Edge just sank his claws in deeper. Then, suddenly, he was only holding dust.

Behind him, he became aware of Paps’ shaking. “Pet? Give me a number.”

“o-one.”

He grit his teeth, knowing he wouldn’t be able to devote the necessary attention to his charge. Not until he knew what was outside and whether it knew they were there. “Okay, Swapshit.” Strangely, the nickname seemed to ground him, so Edge made sure to use it. “Just follow my orders, and I’ll keep you safe. I promise. You don’t have to think or speak or make any decisions. Just do as I say, and I’ll get you through this. If that’s too much, then go home. This isn’t your fight. You don’t have to be here. You can go home.”

He laid his hand over Paps’ sternum, hoping the touch was soothing and not threatening. He didn’t dare risk projecting or whatever was outside might sense them. Besides, he was getting to the point that he’d have to start conserving his magic. He almost jumped when a skeletal hand overlaid his and interlaced their fingers. He blinked. Well. Okay. If that’s what he needed. Edge ran his thumb soothingly over the other skeleton’s chest, feeling his breathing start to even out.

Outside, a final scream from the gecko monster sounded, and he turned his attention away from Paps, willing the new threat to simply walk away. They did not need this right now. Then he heard the footsteps, and he cocked his head, brow-bone furrowed. Was that—?

“Come on out of there, gutter-rat.”

His soul pulsed, a mix of anxiety, relief, and fear rolling through it in a confused tangle. “Are we being informal then, fish-bitch?”

“Well, I’m sure as shit not on duty, and I know you aren’t either. You gonna come out of there or did you get yourself stuck?”

He tugged gently on Paps’ collar and said under his breath, “Stay here until I call for you. This may go badly. And remember—you can teleport away at any time.”

With that, he pushed himself away—a little startled when Paps squeezed his hand again—and climbed out of the crevice to face Undyne. She had her good side turned toward him, looking him over through one yellow eye. The other eye—and a not insignificant portion of face—had been taken long before he’d made her acquaintance. Unlike most of her battle scars, she didn’t brag about that one. She had the courtesy not to ask about his own facial scar, so he didn’t ask about hers.

“You look like shit,” she said cheerfully, grinning sharply.

Almost against his will, his gaze trailed down to her left hand—or lack thereof. The stump was wrapped in bandages all the way up to her elbow. “And you appear to be missing something.”

She threw her head back and laughed, throwing her left arm over his shoulders and pulling him in so she could knuckle the top of his skull, overriding his protests. “You little punk! I didn’t think you had it in you!” She stopped only so she could draw him up by the back of his armor—not the front, he noticed—until they were eye to socket. “Now, tell me _exactly_ why you thought it’d be a good idea to crawl out of whatever hole you’ve been hiding in, and go traipsing through Waterfall before you were fully healed.”

“Sans is missing.”

“Not an answer, gutter-rat.”

“I’m looking for him. In fact, I thought he might be coming to see you.” No need to mention that the nature of his visit was probably less than pleasant. Not if Red hadn’t already dropped by to stir shit up.

Her expression closed off as soon as he said that. “You should have stayed holed up, gutter-rat. If the little twerp wants to get himself dusted, that’s his business. You don’t need to let him drag you down too.”

“So you haven’t seen him is what you’re saying,” he said, freeing himself from her grip. Red and Undyne seemed to have an ongoing enmity that he just couldn’t understand—not least of which because he seemed to be the cause of it.

“Stars damn it, Pap—“

He narrowed his sockets, feeling magic build in their depths. “Don’t.” He exhaled slowly, pushing down the rising rage. “Help or don’t—that’s fine. But do not ask me to abandon my brother, Undyne.”

She looked away, muttering a string of curses—on Papyrus, on Sans, on their progenitor—under her breath. Finally, she sighed and said, arms crossed, “Well, if he was coming to see me he’d have had a difficult time of it. I’ve been in Alphys’ lab the last few days. She’s fitting me for a prosthetic.”

Edge smirked, despite his concern for Red. “Is that all she’s been fitting you for, Captain?”

He dodged a punch to his uninjured side. “Shut up!” she said, features flushed, “Or I’ll break the rest of your ribcage!” He chuckled a little, but his gaze was drawn toward her house. She glanced back. “You’re going to see if he’s waiting for me or something?”

“He’s too lazy to seek you out, but he’s patient enough to lie in wait.”

“Fine,” she said, “but I’m coming with you. You’re lucky, gutter-rat. Not only was I on my way home _anyway,_ but Alphys saw you and your friend getting jumped on one of her cameras. She gave me a call so I could come play hero. She wants to thank you, by the way—apparently, she’s been wanting to try integrating robotics and living tissue for a while now, but she hasn’t been able to find any volunteers.”

They shared a look, knowing exactly why Alphys couldn’t find any volunteers. “Crazy bitch,” he said.

A hazy grin stretched Undyne’s features, softening her battle-scarred visage. “I know; isn’t she great?” Then she shook herself and said, “I-I mean, right? Crazy, huh? Wouldn’t want to stick my tongue in _that_.”

“Oh, Asgore’s horns, Undyne, I didn’t need the visual,” he said, grimacing.

She laughed, clapping him on the back. “Well? You gonna call your friend out? Or are we leaving him in there?”

He leaned into the crevice, saying, “Come on out, pet.” He honestly didn’t really expect to get a response. At this point, the poor Tale monster was probably home safe—

Or. Maybe he’d stayed. Edge’s brow-bones crept up as a skeletal hand emerged. He was actually a little impressed. More than a little, really. He grasped the hand, offering support and leverage. Paps, when he finally emerged, still looked shaken, and he eyed Undyne nervously. Then again, if you were used to her Tale-verse alternates, then this Undyne was probably somewhat startling.

Undyne, however, was just as fascinated. “Holy stars, gutter-rat. What’d you do, raid the king’s harem? He doesn’t have a mark on him!” She looked him up and down, taking in the clean, delicate bones.

“I’m watching him for a friend.” Blue qualified as a friend, he thought.

A sly smile suddenly crossed Undyne’s features, and she punched Edge in the shoulder. “Sure you are. I always figured you’d go in for a softer touch. Stars, he even looks a bit like you, you narcissistic bastard!”

“Undyne!” he hissed, feeling his features heat. “Are you going to come with us to your house or not? You said you were going there anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, you punks. I’ll keep the bad guys away.” As he passed, she caught Paps around the shoulders and drew him in. “Hey, sweet-piece—“ Something in Edge twisted unpleasantly when she said that. “—think you can remove the stick he’s got lodged in his pelvic cavity?”

“ _Undyne!_ ”

Paps, however, was easing into a lazy grin. “i’m doing my best. got any suggestions? he’s being uncooperative.”

Edge face-palmed. “Stars. This is not happening.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Undyne said, leering at Edge. He flipped her off, earning a shark-toothed grin. “Come on, gutter-rat; don’t tell me no one’s shown you how to use a sweet-piece.”

Okay, that definitely rubbed him the wrong way. His sockets narrowed. “He’s not a—“

“Here’s what you do,” she said, turning back to Paps and ignoring Edge entirely. “If you want to get him drunk, he prefers sriracha. He usually gets kinda cuddly when he’s properly drunk—“

“I DO NOT!” he protested, horrified—especially when he caught the spark in Paps’ eye and the grin stretched across his features. _Fuck_.

“—so you should be able to get him in the mood pretty easily. If that doesn’t work, then I can find you some spider cider. Just spike his drink—“

“That’s called _rape_ , you insensitive twat!”

“Hey!” she said, turning to him, “I’m trying to get your uptight ass laid!” She turned back to Paps. “Since he’s going to be a baby about the whole thing, try—“ She leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and Edge had officially had enough.

He grabbed Paps around the waist and pulled him in, away from Undyne, causing her to laugh raucously. Edge inserted himself between the two, glaring at them both. Undyne continued to smirk, while Paps looked as if he was trying to decide if he should find Undyne’s advice funny or horrifying.

Fell-verse monsters probably weren’t the ones to consult for dating advice. There was a reason Edge had asked to borrow Rus’ Dating Handbook—though he’d done so more for Red’s sake, trying to leave it in conspicuous places so that he might take a peek out of curiosity alone. If his brother was going to pursue a Tale-verse monster, then they needed to take the necessary steps to prevent any cultural misunderstandings. It was basic courtesy.

Also, Sans might actually kill Red if he did something stupid. Like dose Rus with spider cider.

Undyne continued to be loud and boisterous as they walked to her house, giving any potential attackers plenty of warning to get out of the way and under cover. Despite her distracted—even carefree—air, Edge knew she was intently focused on their surroundings. Once, they’d been on the way to her house, and she’d been in the middle of a joke. They’d been jumped, and she’d dusted three monsters without a pause. He’d almost missed the punch line because of the last monster’s dying screams.

“Well,” she said, “we’re here. Think he set any traps?” She surveyed the yard, looking for trip-wires and pressure plates.

“Tch. I can barely get him to set traps in Snowdin Forest. I doubt he’d do it of his own volition.” He paused to think. “The worst he might do is put a bucket over your bedroom door or something.”

Undyne grimaced with distaste. “Ugh. You’re brother’s such a pain in the ass,” she complained, marching forward to—cautiously—push open the front door. Then she growled, a cyan spear crackling into existence instantly. “Gutter-rat…” she snarled, “you’d better hope you find your brother before I do.”

Edge rushed forward, though Paps tried to hold him back. He stopped in the doorway and groaned aloud. “Asgore’s horns…. Stars above, Undyne, I’m sorry. I don’t—I can’t believe he would do this!”

Fish guts were smeared over every flat surface, and dozens of fish heads were nailed to the wall, their eyes neatly pierced. A webbed hand clamped on his upper arm and pulled him close. “Papyrus,” Undyne growled, “you’re going to find your shitty brother, and you’re going to kick his ass.” She pulled him in until they were socket to eye. “Or I’m going to do it for you.”

He leaned back, not really trying to escape, but definitely trying to give himself a little space. “Right. Well. I have to find him first.”

She growled, then released him. “Let me make a phone call.” She marched away, dialing as she went. Edge, meanwhile, stared through the door and into Undyne’s home, trying to figure out why Red would do something like this. Why he would even _think_ of doing something like this. “Asgore’s hairy ass, runt,” he said under his breath, “what am I supposed to do with you?”

Paps came to stand in the doorway beside him and looked inside. “welp, i guess we know why he went to a fish market.”

Edge glared at him. “Thank you, pet. How very astute. I don’t know how I managed without you all these years. Care to speculate as to why he might have felt the need to do something like this?”

“to be fair, she did try to kill you. honestly, if you were my bro, i’d probably have done worse.”

Edge stared at him, flabbergasted. “Don’t try to defend him! This. Is. _Insane_. He _nailed_ fish heads to the interior walls of a _fish_ _monster’s_ house! In what universe is this acceptable behavior?!”

Paps looked inside, looked back at Edge, then looked at Undyne. He shrugged. “eh. i stand by what i said. she’s lucky she wasn’t home. this—“ He gestured to the fish heads. “—probably wasn’t plan a.”

Annoyed and, admittedly, a little amused—and twice as annoyed because he was amused—Edge rubbed the ridge of bone between his sockets. “Stars save me from over-protective older brothers, honestly.”

Undyne was yelling into the phone now, causing Edge and Paps to flinch. “stars above,” he said, “rus could teach her a thing or two about volume control.”

Shaking his head, Edge snorted, unable to keep the fondness from his features. “I did warn you: intense.”

“so…correct me if i’m wrong, but she did try to kill you a few days ago, right? this is the same undyne? you didn’t, like, piss-off the undertale version or something?”

“Obviously. Or she wouldn’t have fish heads nailed to her walls.”

“and you two are…cool now? you’re just going to pretend that didn’t happen or what?”

Edge sobered immediately. “She shattered my ribcage. I…” He took a breath, reminding himself that this was something he should be proud of. “I took her hand. I’d say neither of us has grounds to hold a grudge.”

Paps blinked, sockets going wide. “you—?” He looked at Undyne again. “holy stars, edge, what the hell?”

He forced himself to shrug, as if he didn’t care. As if he was fine with it. “It’s Underfell, Swapshit. Our fighting isn’t neat and pretty like yours.” He was not going to reveal that he hadn’t simply _cut_ Undyne’s hand off. Paps did not need that little detail.

_(—the taste of blood and dust—)_

He forced the memory down. “I can take care of myself. Red doesn’t need to pull this shit.” Paps didn’t say anything. Across the training grounds, Undyne screamed particularly loudly, and they both winced.

“so…” Paps said slowly, “i was hoping you could clear something up for me.”

Edge wondered what aspect of Underfell Paps was questioning now. “I’ll do my best to answer any questions you may have.”

“do you?”

He blinked, lost. “Do I…what?” He looked at Paps, saw the raised brow-bones and the smirk, and realized he’d walked into a joke or a pun or—

“prefer a softer touch? i’m trying to get a proper visual.” Edge stared at him, feeling like his brain was misfiring. His Fell-verse mindset insisted, initially, that he should take this other monster down, show them that he wasn’t to be idly teased like this. “does that mean, like, rose-petals on the bedspread? or does it just mean no biting? i’m trying to figure out what ‘softer’ means to a fell monster.”

This was Paps, though. _Swapshit_. Not another Fell monster. His flirting didn’t mean the same thing. It was, in a way, innocent. It didn’t _hurt,_ and it wasn’t meant to. “What, exactly, is wrong with you?” he asked, feeling himself holding back a grin. Now was not the time for this…but stars, it felt good to let off a little steam.

“come on, edgelord, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

He huffed, rolling his eyelights. “Only because you won’t shut up about it.” He realized his mistake when Paps’ shit-eating grin grew broader. “…damn it….”

“so you _have_ thought about it, then.” He sidled up close and knocked their shoulders together. Edge covered his sockets, trying not to laugh. “how’s it go?” he asked, voice low. As if they were trading secrets. “in your mind, i mean? do you top, or—?”

Edge shook his head. “I am not having this conversation with you. Especially not _here_. Stars on fire….” He chuckled a little, unable to hold it in entirely.

“see,” Paps said, leaning in so he was speaking directly into Edge’s acoustic meatus, “you’re always so cool and controlled and _edgy_ , i can’t help but picture you coming completely undone under my hands. features flushed and eyelights unfocused.” Color bloomed on Edge’s cheekbones, and suddenly he wasn’t holding in laughter anymore. “i’m willing to bet you’re beautiful when you cum….”

Edge swallowed down the magic that pooled in his mouth, trying to ignore the way his pelvis heated. “Undyne!” he called, turning away from Paps. He was done. Very, very done. “How’s that phone call coming? Going! I meant going—how’s that phone call _going_?” Paps laughed silently at his unintentional pun.

Then Undyne looked at Edge, and all hints of humor and arousal were gone from both skeletons’ features. “What is it?” Edge asked, soul going cold.

“Alphys’ll text you the vid. It’s not good, Pap.”

His phone buzzed, and he braced himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential triggers: uncomfortable socio-sexual norms, graphic violence, abuse/mild torture of a young adolescent. Black comedy, specifically references to rape in a comedic setting. (The last one might be overkill, as far as trigger warnings go, but I know it's a touchy subject. Please note that I do not support rape or rape culture, but...it's Underfell.)
> 
> Seriously though, guys; Felldyne does not give good dating advice.


	15. We come to Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paps learns that, sometimes, he really should just keep his mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the endnote for the trigger warning.

_stars above, what the hell is wrong with me?_ Paps wondered as soon as the words were out of his mouth. ( _“i’m willing to bet you’re beautiful when you cum….”_ ) Who _said_ things like that?! _asgore’s fucking flowers_ ….

It was the stress of this universe, he decided; his mouth ran away with him when he got nervous. Not to mention how badly he’d wanted to wipe that expression off Edge’s face—cruel and cold and _awful_. Paps had mentally dubbed it ‘Fell-face’ in an effort to actually find some sort of humor in the situation, but the private joke fell (…heh…) pretty flat. That’s how this round of flirting had started. He’d wanted to jolt Edge out of his Fell-verse persona and, maybe, get him to blush. Or earn one of those almost-smiles he was coming to treasure.

It had been working, too. He hadn’t earned a blush, but Edge’s expression had lost its harshness and eased into something more familiar. Stars, he’d actually managed to get the Fell monster to laugh! Well, chuckle, but still. Then he’d fucked up and allowed his private thoughts to come spilling out of his mouth without meeting any kind of filter in between. What was _wrong_ with him? _stars…._

Well, he’d already dug himself a grave; he may as well lie down in it. Rather than try to backpedal, he forced himself to maintain his amused demeanor and quietly chuckle at Edge’s unintended pun. Or was it a Fruedian slip? Well, whatever it was, he had to admit that it was kind of funny. Almost worth the intense embarrassment. Almost.

Then Undyne turned toward them, and Paps’ soul froze. “It’s not good, Pap.” He very nearly reached out to take Edge’s hand, but he knew that Edge would not be okay with that, so he restrained himself. Edge fished out his phone and brought up the video. Paps didn’t want to look. This was Underfell—what would Felldyne consider ‘not good’? What did that mean? Nevertheless, he took a breath and leaned in to watch.

He jumped a little when Edge’s free hand automatically found his neck, a few phalanges slipping beneath the collar. His fingers dug deep into the cartilage and between the joined bones. It was honestly a little painful, but the pain grounded Paps and reassured him that, despite Edge’s cold demeanor, he was anxious too. He stepped closer, into the almost-embrace, and prepared himself.

The video was of lower quality than anything Underswap’s Undyne had access to, the black and white footage grainy and flickering. It appeared to be video of one of the passages in Waterfall, though Paps really wasn’t familiar enough with this Waterfall to recognize the exact location. Red walked into view, looking particularly smug and self-satisfied. After his prank with the fish-heads, then. He had his hands in his pockets, and he moved with a sort of lazy self-assurance that was, actually, kind of impressive.

Then, suddenly, he stopped, shifting in such a way that it was obvious his feet were stuck. Red immediately grasped what this meant and ducked down, throwing his command hand out to summon a protective wall of bones. Unfortunately, a gob of grey goo shot from off-screen, gumming up the joints of his hand. His free hand continued to tug at his shoes, untying the laces so he could slip out of them. Once his feet were free, he’d be able to teleport, but so long as he was stuck like that, he was in a very vulnerable position.

Edge’s hand tightened until Paps couldn’t help but grimace. Immediately, the phalanges loosened and, instead of squeezing, began to pet the abused cartilage and bone. On-screen, Red managed to free one foot, only for another gob of grey to hit him square in the chest. He toppled over, obviously crying out in pain, though the feed was silent. Red’s eyelights flared and a gaster blaster appeared overhead, but it was firing wildly—Red didn’t know where to direct it to hit his attacker(s?).

Then Paps realized the blaster was just to provide cover fire. Despite having strained his ankle joint, Red was trying to free his other foot, though the grey goo was all over him now. Even if he freed his foot, he would probably be stuck to the floor anyway. Red squirmed and fought, but the webbing just spread over him. Then, four spider monsters dropped from the ceiling—they’d probably strung a web between the cavern’s walls.

These spiders were not like any Tale-verse spider monster Paps had met. They weren’t especially large monsters: probably about Sans’ size, maybe a little larger. Their features were largely humanoid, like Muffet, except their mouthparts, which merged into fierce mandibles and dripping fangs. They scuttled like their smaller cousins, their eight limbs a disturbing combination of arm and leg. Their ‘hands’—all eight of them—were elongated and thin, each ‘finger’—and he was using that term _very_ loosely—ended in a terrifying claw-like hook.

“stars above…” he cursed quietly.

“Spiderlings…” Edge said under his breath. “Red didn’t stand a chance; they’re made for ambushes like this.”

One spiderling approached cautiously, poking Red with one claw. Red hissed and spit and snapped at the other monster, but he was pretty well trapped at this point. The spiderling hooked its ‘fingers’ through the webbing and pulled Red close. A whimper escaped Paps, but the spinderling only spread its hands over Red, creating more webbing to wrap him in. He spun the small skeleton around and around, tying him up securely.

Then another spiderling approached, crouching low so the first one could push Red onto its back. “Where’d they take him?” Edge asked Undyne, sounding shockingly calm.

“Hotland,” Undyne replied, “but she loses them once they reach the second level. You know what it’s like out there, and how hard it is to keep her cameras up and running.” Edge nodded absently, phalanges tracing over Paps’ vertebrae. He was obviously thinking about something.

“Alright,” he said, stowing his phone, “We go to the source, then. Come on, pet.”

Edge released him and started back toward the road, leaving Paps feeling momentarily bereft. Stars, he needed a cigarette, but Blue had—accidentally—stolen his lighter. He started after Edge, who had already been joined by Undyne. She glanced back at the Tale monster and said to Edge, “You’re not seriously taking the sweet-piece with you.”

Paps furrowed his brows, wondering if he should be offended or not. He decided not to be, simply because he was a Tale-verse monster in Underfell. Compared to the natives, he probably looked like he’d never seen any kind of combat.

( _—pain and fear and desperation. Fighting for his life, fighting for Sans’ life, and failing failing f a i l i n g—)_

“He’s not a sweet-piece,” Edge said sharply, catching Paps and Undyne off-guard. “He’s my contingency plan.”

Undyne, walking beside Edge as Paps trailed two steps behind, laughed heartily. “Contingency plan?!” she asked, “What, are you going to trade him for Sans?”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that; I did promise to bring him back safely.”

“Well,” she said, glancing back to leer meaningfully at Paps, “at least we know he’s to Muffet’s tastes.”

“No,” Edge said, “He’s really not. She likes to play a little rougher than he could probably handle.”

“hey!” he said, becoming a little offended, “i can play rough.”

The two Fell monsters turned to stare at him. Undyne was holding in laughter. Edge, meanwhile, was scowling at him. “You have 5HP, pet. Trust me. You couldn’t handle it.”

Slowly, his brow-bones crept up. “wait. i mean, i’m not, uh, unfamiliar with the idea of taking a little pain with your pleasure, but…? hp damage? that doesn’t seem…healthy, somehow.” Sure, he knew that there were monsters that liked to play rough in the bedroom, had even experimented a little bit himself, but doing HP damage seemed…wrong. HP wasn’t just about physical health; a monster could be physically hurt, to an extent, without affecting their HP. It was all a matter of intent—real, true malice was required to affect a monster’s HP.

 _(His foot connecting with Edge’s side, feeling the sponginess of his ribcage as the magic matrix wrapping it reacted to his ill intent. He’d lied to Blue; even if he regretted it later, in that moment, he’d_ meant _to hurt the edgelord.)_

A consensual sadomasochistic relationship didn’t seem like it should involve the kind of malice needed to affect a monster’s HP. “Did I say that it was healthy?” Edge asked, “No. I said that you couldn’t handle it. And you can’t. So. Shut. Up.”

Undyne lost it, bending double with laughter. “Sweet-piece thinks he can—! Holy fucking stars, gutter-rat, _where_ did you find him?! I can’t—I _can’t_!”

Edge rolled his eyelights, looking down at her. “Are you quite done? It’s not that funny. And I told you not to call him that.”

“Just—“ She gasped for breath, trying to control her laughter. “—just give me a minute.”

“…I’m leaving now. Pet—heel.”

Paps glared at his back. “i’m not your damn dog.” The comparison to Slim, intentional or not, was not a welcome one.

Only when Edge turned on him did he realize that his backtalk was probably a mistake. He’d forgotten that the edgelord was just as wound up as he was about Red’s kidnapping, if not more so, but a lot more likely to lash out as a result. Edge made as if to backhand him, and Paps dodged right, but Edge had apparently anticipated that. He’d feigned the strike so that he could catch Paps with his other hand. He threw Paps into a wall and used his body to cage him in, maintaining contact so that he couldn’t teleport away. “You’re whatever the fuck I say you are,” he snarled, “and I warned you to watch your fucking mouth.”

Paps’ breathing was fast and hard, surprised by the display. Over Edge’s shoulder, Undyne leaned back, arms crossed and a smirk on her face. Then, to Paps’ shock and surprise, she held up her hand, fingers touching her thumb as if she was holding a cylindrical object. She brought her hand up toward her mouth…and pressed her tongue into her cheek, then began moving her hand and tongue in time. It was obvious what she was miming. The vulgar demonstration actually made Paps blush, which caused Edge’s sockets to narrow.

“You’re not seriously—?” Then he followed Paps’ gaze and saw what Undyne was doing.

She dropped her hand to smirk at him and ask, “You two want a moment? I can turn around, but I know Alphys would appreciate the show.” She jerked a thumb at a nearby camera. “Something about yaoi being adorable.”

Edge immediately fell out of his aggressive posture, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead. “Stars above, Undyne. No. Just, no. Asgore’s fucking flowers….” He stalked away, still grumbling under his breath. Undyne turned her shark-toothed grin on Paps and again slung her arm over his shoulders to pull him along with her.

Under her breath, she said, “You may want to switch tactics, sweet-piece. I mean, obviously, you’ll get results like that, but in the long run, I don’t think either of you will enjoy them. Just keep in mind that he’ll return whatever you dish out. If you give him something to fight against, you’re going to get teeth and claws. But if you treat him nice….” She shrugged and smiled suggestively. “I honestly have no idea what’s going on between you two, but if he really is your new keeper, then trust me when I say you could do worse.” Something flickered in her eyes. “A lot worse.”

Paps blinked. “uh. thanks…?”

She patted him on the back so hard it rattled his bones. “Come on, then ‘contingency plan’. Let’s catch up.” She marched forward, dragging him along with her. “Hey! Gutter-rat! Wait up!” As they walked, she continued talking to Paps, speaking at her normal volume. “And don’t worry about Muffet. He won’t leave anyone in that sick bitch’s hands, let alone someone like you.”

“yeah, so, what’s her deal anyway? why would she want re-sans?”

Undyne opened her mouth, but it was Edge that answered. His features were once again set in that cold, cruel mask that Paps hated. “A variety of reasons, but it’s unlikely to be personal. Above all, Muffet is a business woman, even if her business is illicit drugs and gambling. Most likely, she snatched him because of that stunt he pulled yesterday with one of her errand boys. She’s…protective of them, and she can’t afford to let that kind of infraction stand uncontested. Otherwise the rest of the Underground is going to think its open season on her and whatever she holds dear. It’s about image, pet.”

“Yeah,” Undyne said, speaking with a bitterness and suppressed rage that was somewhat startling, “No one’s allowed to break her toys but her.”

Paps looked at her, brow-bones raised. “break…? what do you mean?” He was trying to reconcile the Muffet he knew with the creature they were describing. Sure, his Muffet was a little intimidating if you didn’t know her, but ultimately, she was good-hearted and gentle. He couldn’t imagine her ‘breaking’ anyone.

Undyne exhaled through her gills, the sound like a low hiss. “She likes them young and cute and sweet…and then she likes to tear the innocence out of them. She gets off on it.”

Edge gave her a significant look. “She doesn’t get off on it,” he said tiredly.

Undyne returned the look, glaring at him. “Not this again, gutter-rat. Come on.”

“Fuck off,” he said, flatly, “You don’t know, so don’t act like you do. It’s not a sex thing with her, alright?” Under his breath, he said, “At least not until after they’re fucked up enough to give as good as they get.” Louder, he added, “I don’t even know if she actually enjoys breaking them, even if she does enjoy the results.”

“Pap….”

For a second, Edge’s gaze was intense and pulled inward. It was the expression Blue always wore when he was working on a difficult puzzle. “I think…I think she actually believes she’s helping….”

“She’s a sick, twisted _cunt_ ,” Undyne snapped. Paps winced a little at the language, wondering if this was how Blue felt when someone said ‘fuck’.

“I’m not defending her!” Edge said, throwing up his hands as he came back to the present, “I’m just trying to understand, alright? You have to understand someone’s motives if you’re going to negotiate with them.”

“You’re not serious,” she said, flabbergasted, “Screw negotiations. Shank the bitch, grab your bro, and get the fuck out of there—this isn’t _hard_!”

Edge turned to snarl at her, “Is that really what you suggest? We’ll be on her turf, with no idea where Sans is being kept, and I’m not exactly at the top of my game. You can’t accompany us; it’s _Hotland_. You’d be a liability, and I can’t expect help from the Hotland guard. The ones that aren’t on Muffet’s payroll will think that I am. They aren’t exactly fans of mine.”

Undyne huffed, arms crossed and mouth twisted into a scowl. “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have been such a little shit when you were a kid, then, huh?”

“I fail to see how their incompetence is my fault.”

“you know…they’d probably be friendlier if you didn’t imply the whole unit was either corrupt or incompetent,” Paps said, still reeling a bit from the information he’d gleaned from the conversation.

The two Fell monsters stared at him, then Undyne broke out into laughter again, clapping Paps on the back once more. He jolted—she was going to break something if she kept doing that. “If it wasn’t true,” Edge said, drawing himself upright and looking incredibly prissy, “I wouldn’t say it.”

Undyne was still snickering when Paps asked, “so…how do you know so much about muffet, then, if she’s in hotland and your territory is snowdin?” The two Fell monsters exchanged a look, silently communicating. Then Edge adopted a faux-innocent expression and Undyne broke out a broad grin.

“Oh, please, can I answer that?” she asked.

He ignored her entirely. “I worked for Muffet as an adolescent.”

Paps sockets went wide. “wait—you said she was—but you’re a _guard_. what were you doing working for her?”

Deadpan, Edge replied, “Baking cookies.”

Undyne punched him in the shoulder. “Liar,” she accused, then turned to Paps. “He was one of her enforcers. The better question is what _didn’t_ he do?”

Edge raised a brow-bone, feigning shock. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Captain. I was a mere baker’s apprentice and delivery boy.”

“You killed three of my guards, you worthless gutter-rat!” She released Paps so that she could use both arms to gesture as she spoke.

His innocent expression melted into a smirk. “Prove it, fish-bitch. Also, trust me, they weren’t much of a loss.”

“That’s not the point!”

Stars, this place was so messed up. Paps fell into step behind them, his soul growing cold at the reminder that these monsters were killers. Hell, he’d seen it firsthand, when they were trapped in the crevice. Part of him was appalled at their callousness, at their ability to joke and laugh about a trio of dead people—people Edge had apparently _killed_ …but Paps, of all people, well knew the range of emotions that laughter could cover.

Sometimes, you didn’t laugh because something was funny. You laughed because you had to choose between laughing and crying, and laughing was easier.

Still, he couldn’t join in with them, and for a moment, he felt very, very alone. A Tale-verse monster in a Fell-verse, completely unprepared and out of his depth. “two,” he whispered to himself, fumbling for the lighter he didn’t have.

Somehow, though he’d continued to banter with Undyne, Edge either heard what he said or noticed his nervous fidgeting. Edge caught him by the shoulder and pulled him forward, two fingers again slipping under his collar. His thumb stroked over Paps’ clavical. It didn’t _fix_ him. It didn’t put him back in his normal mindset, but it helped. He relaxed a little, feeling more at ease in their presence again. He allowed their idle chatter to wash over him as they walked through the echo flower fields. He did his best not to hear what the flowers were saying, though. It detracted from the beauty of the scene.

A warm breeze started up as they got closer to Hotland, and Undyne pulled a water bottle from her inventory to drink deep from it. Edge glanced at her, brow-bone raised. She glared at him. “I’m fine, gutter-rat. Fuss over your ‘contingency plan’ if you need something to mother.” She poured some of the water over her gills.

“Like I care if you want to let yourself dry out, fish-bitch.” He said it absently, though it was obvious enough that he didn’t mean it. Now that he’d seen it a few times, Paps could recognize that Edge was mentally preparing himself. His shoulders were back, his head up, and his eyelights bright—ready for anything. Paps hadn’t even realized how relaxed Edge had been in Undyne’s presence until, suddenly, he wasn’t.

Undyne noticed too. Their banter started to die down the closer they got to Hotland. Finally, when Undyne emptied her water bottle and pulled out a fresh one, Edge stopped. He waited for her to splash water over her gills before saying, “I think you’ve taken us far enough. Thank you, Captain, for your assistance. Despite—“ He faltered for a moment, as if looking for the words.

“Despite the fact that your brother’s the jackass that nailed fish heads to my walls?” she suggested. Edge winced.

“…yes. Despite that. Thank you.”

She nodded, looking toward Hotland. “Before you go,” she said, “I’d like you to promise me something.”

Edge rolled his eyelights. “Yes, I will be sure that Sans is thoroughly punished for—“

She cut him off with a gesture. “No. Papyrus—“ He started at the sound of his full name and focused on her, standing straighter. “—I need you to promise me…if I ever lose it like that again….” She exhaled. “Don’t hold back, alright? I refuse to be part of that bastard’s menagerie.”

Edge released Paps and stepped toward Undyne. “Only if you promise to do the same for me.” Not comprehending, Paps looked between the two of them, trying to make sense of the scene.

Undyne nodded and held out her hand. Edge held his out as well. They hooked elbows and clasped hands, holding the pose for a moment. Then they both nodded and stepped away, their promise validated without words. As they drew back, Undyne held onto his hand for a moment longer, saying, “Give that bitch hell, gutter-rat. Fight dirty. Lie. Cheat. Steal. Whatever it takes.”

Edge smirked. “You hardly need to tell me that, Captain.”

She grinned. “No Mercy,” she said, releasing him.

“No prisoners,” he returned. Then he turned away and started down the path toward Hotland. As he passed Paps, he flicked his fingers to indicate that Paps should resume his place two steps behind. “Come along, pet.”

When Paps glanced back, Undyne was still watching them. She grinned at him and gave him a thumbs-up, then gestured to Edge and mouthed, ‘You got this.’ Paps blushed and turned back around to face forward. He really had no idea what to think of Undyne’s support of their not-relationship. It was kind of adorable, but also somewhat terrifying. Felldyne seemed to be the type to take extreme measures if things were not progressing as planned. He did not want to end up locked in a closet with the edgelord, the both of them drugged with spider-cider.

He shut down that line of thought before his brain could pursue it and provide helpful imagery.

Besides, he had something else that was weighing more heavily on his mind. “hey, uh, boss?”

“What is it, pet?”

“so, i’ve got a question—“ Edge turned to glare at him.

“If this is a set-up for more of your insufferable flirting—“

He held up his hands. “no, it’s not; i swear. i just…menagerie? what’s that?”

“Ah.” Edge was quiet for several minutes. Paps kept shooting glances at him as the air around them got warmer and the echo flowers fewer and farther between.

“…boss?” he asked. “you gonna answer or what?”

“Do you really want to know?” Edge asked, glancing at him over his shoulder, “It’s not pertinent to your survival here, and you’ll only find it upsetting.”

Paps forced himself to roll his shoulders lazily and grin. “well now you gotta tell me,” he said, ignoring the weight on his soul.

Edge sighed and held his silence for a few minutes more, organizing his thoughts. Then, slowly, he said, “Living with LV is sometimes…difficult. It requires a great deal of care and restraint to keep it from controlling you. I manage, of course, and Undyne remains herself, for the most part. However, the threat always looms. It would be very easy to lose yourself to your LV. Sometimes, you can come back from it, as Undyne did. Sometimes, you’re just…gone.”

A chill went down Paps’ spine. Part of him wanted to suggest that, in that case, maybe they should consider not killing people. However, he’d seen too much of Underfell to view that simplistic solution as realistic. The hunters they’d encountered had been relentless; they weren’t going to stop until they were dead or the skeletons were enslaved. “so, the menagerie?”

“That’s what we call it. Asgore calls it his ‘Berserker Regiment’. Part of my job as guard is to corral any monsters that have gone completely feral and bring them to the Judgement Hall. Red puts on a show of Judging them, while Asgore decides if they’re worth keeping or not. If not, then Red will execute them. If they are, then Asgore will stop the proceedings and make some speech about compassion and rehabilitation and—“ Edge took a breath, and Paps realized, abruptly, that he was getting upset.

When he was calmer, he continued. “Everyone knows, though. He’s not Sparing them for Mercy’s sake. He’s doing it so that he can collect another monster for his menagerie. They’re to be the front line,” he spoke softly now, though bitterness suffused his voice, “when we break the barrier.”

“oh.” What else could he say? Once again, Underfell had knocked him on his ass. _what is_ wrong _with this place?_ he wondered. How did it get like this? What happened?

Then Edge said, “It’s not a fate either Undyne or myself particularly desire,” and Paps went stock still as he replayed their earlier conversation. The full nature of the promise they’d exchanged hitting him like a physical blow.

“edge…” he said, stricken. His sockets were wide. He fumbled for his lighter, remembered it wasn’t there and instead tugged on the collar around his neck.

Edge noticed. “What’s your number?”

“fuck my number!” he snapped, angry and desperate, “stars on fire, fuckfell! how can you—? why aren’t you—?”

Edge took a step toward him and, very calmly, slapped him. Paps held his cheek, feeling the sting. “Stop it,” Edge said, voice low and flat, “We don’t have Undyne’s protection anymore. We cannot afford this. If you can’t hold it together, then go home. I can manage myself.” He waited, presumably for Paps to take a shortcut back, then nodded once when he remained. “There are a few things I’d like to go over before we reach Muffet’s bakery.”

Paps shook his head. “no,” he said. “i can keep it together, but you’re not changing the subject. we’re talking about this, alright?”

“Oh?” Edge asked, brow-bones raised. There was something dangerous in his tone. “So you have a solution, then? A way to keep our LV from overwhelming us?”

He did. _come live with us_. “no, but—“

“Or maybe you know how we can keep from gaining it in the first place?”

 _yes; stay with us. (stay with me_. _)_ “no.”

“No? Are you certain? You Tale monsters seem to have everything figured out, after all. Your universes are so neat and pretty and clean. You’re all so polite and sweet that you even take turns when you’re fighting. So, please, Swapshit, share your wisdom. If you can fix this place, if you have the solutions to our problems, then tell me and I will bow down and kiss your fucking feet. Because I’ve spent my whole life trying to find those solutions.” His eyelights were blazing and he was breathing hard. “Well?”

Paps wanted to tell him that he and Red were welcome to stay in Underswap. He wanted to say it so badly, but he knew that Edge would not be receptive to it. Not right now. So, he swallowed it down and shook his head numbly, again feeling lost and out of his depth. For an insane moment, he wished that Blue was here. He’d have known what to say, how to calm Edge and convince him to stay with them. “That’s what I thought,” Edge replied, pulling away.

He resumed walking and said, almost absently, “Regarding Muffet—pet, keep up; two steps behind, not five—let me do the talking. She can be mercurial and unpredictable, but I’m familiar with her moods, so let me handle her. Do not allow her to corner you. Do not engage with her, no matter what she says or does. Just keep your eyes down and your mouth shut. Above all else—do not eat anything that she offers you.”

Paps brow-bones rose at that, though he felt a little like he was going to get whiplash; he was still trying to recover from the menagerie talk. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the Muffet talk yet. “don’t eat—? why?”

Edge rubbed the ridge of bone between his sockets. “I’m not explaining that to you. Just know that, as a general rule, don’t trust any food that isn’t factory sealed or that you haven’t prepared yourself.” Ah. Well, that actually explained a few things. “One last thing,” Edge said, “whatever I say or do, know this; I will not leave you here. I fully intend to get my brother, you, and myself out of this alive and well. Understand? Good. That said, if you have the opportunity to grab Red, take it. Leave me if you must—I can find my own way back.”

Yeah. No way in hell was he going to leave Edge here, injured and alone in Underfell. Of course, he couldn’t just say that. So he just said, “you got it, boss.” He was really coming to appreciate how many different inflections Red had for the word ‘boss’. How had he not noticed that before?

The answer to that was both obvious and shameful; he hadn’t seen because he hadn’t wanted to see.

Around them, the stars had faded from view, and the cool, wet air of Waterfall had transitioned to the hot, dry air of Hotland. A neon sign pulsed and popped beside them. Once upon a time, it had said ‘Welcome to Hotland’. Now, however…. “we come to hand?” Paps read, finding the phrase strangely ominous.

Edge eyed it and shook his head. “I don’t know why they bother to keep it lit anyway; it’s a waste of power.” As they passed a sign, another station came into view. This one, however, was whole and untouched. Edge paused to regard it, looking disgusted and muttering about ‘unlicensed food stands’. He spared an especially disgusted look for the snow on the roof. Then they were past it, and Edge turned onto a side street. In Paps’ home universe, there was an elevator. Instead, there was a ventilated steel door set in the rock wall.

Edge pulled a key from his inventory and unlocked it. “It’s an access tunnel,” Edge explained. “The guard has a few of them so we can get to certain parts of Hotland and the Capital quickly.” He opened the door, and they stepped into a wide tunnel. It ran East, but there were also multiple ladders to take them directly up. “Keep an eye out,” Edge said, “Theoretically speaking, no one has access to these tunnels but the guard. However, in reality, there are several illegal copies of the guards’ keys. Not to mention multiple ways to pick the lock.”

He looked around nervously as he followed Edge, not liking the stifling heat and the dim lighting of the access tunnel. They passed several ladders before Edge stopped in front of one. He started climbing and said, over his shoulder, “This will take us to the third floor shopping district.” Paps watched him, looking for some indication that his ribs were bothering him, but he couldn’t find any.

Edge had to be suppressing his pain. There was no other way he could be doing this. Paps’ soul clenched. How much magic did he have? How much had he used? MP was a hidden stat, so he couldn’t check it, but stars, he wished it wasn’t. If Edge wasn’t careful….

Paps took a breath and started up the ladder after him. No use thinking about the worst case scenario; Edge either knew what he was doing, or he didn’t. Either way, nothing Paps said or did would keep the other skeleton from doing it. _stupid stubborn asshole_.

They climbed. And climbed. By the time they reached the third level, Paps’ arms felt like they were going to fall off. He reached the last rung, and jolted a little when a steady arm grabbed him by the humerus and hauled him the rest of the way up. Edge maneuvered him so he was leaning against the wall of the landing, and he studied Paps. Edge’s brow-bones were drawn, and he was obviously deep in thought.

“Take off the hoodie.”

Paps raised a brow-bone. “uh…okay.” He pulled the hoodie off. Underneath, he’d only worn his black tank. Edge looked him up and down, and suddenly, Paps felt incredibly self-conscious of his frail bones. The edgelord might be shorter, but he was bulkier, his bones sturdy and strong despite the chips and scars.

“How attached are you to this top?” Edge asked.

“what? it’s—it’s just an undershirt, edgelord. i don’t—“ Edge nodded to himself, then reached out and neatly ripped the front of his shirt so that the length of his sternum and much of his ribcage was exposed. Paps pressed himself against the wall and covered the exposed bone. “whatareyoudoing?!”

“Relax, Swapshit. You’re supposed to be a sweet-piece, but I’m showing more bone than you are. I’m just helping you look the part.” He cocked his head, and his eyelights dimmed.

“what?” he asked.

Edge shook his head, distracted. His gaze was fixed on Paps’ clavicle, for some reason. “I’m just—“ He ran a hand over his skull and looked away. Then he looked back at Paps. “You’ll have to forgive me for this.”

“forgive you for—?” Before he could finish the sentence, Edge had caught his hands and trapped them over Paps’ head. Voice coming out a lot higher than usual, Paps asked, “what are—?” Edge was already fitting his mouth over the place where Paps’ collarbone met his sternum—and then he bit down. “nngh!” Paps jerked, his soul pulsing wildly. Pain shot through him, but soon enough a hot tongue pressed into the shallow wound, and he clenched his teeth to hold in a moan. “wh-why did you—?” he asked breathlessly. He could feel the intent in Edge’s magic—/POSSESSING/OWNING/BRANDING/MINE/MINE/M I N E/

When Edge pulled back, the bite mark practically glowed with his magic, marking Paps. “I’m sorry,” Edge said, not meeting his gaze, “but Muffet needs to believe that you have value to me.”

Paps stared at him, sockets wide. He couldn’t sort out his feelings at the moment. They were a strange tangle of arousal and anxiety, outrage and offended pride and _disappointment_. “oh.” What else was he supposed to say? “al…alright, then. okay.”

Edge crossed his arms and looked away, fingers twitching. “I would have asked,” he said, “but I couldn’t have done it if you’d said no. And it needed to be done.” Before Paps could say anything, Edge grabbed Paps’ hoodie and stashed it in his own inventory. “You’ll get it back when this is over. Two steps behind, pet.”

He opened the door, and they stepped out onto the street. Paps was startled by how dirty everything was. Snowdin hadn’t looked like this, and neither had Waterfall. Graffiti covered the walls and trash crowded the gutters. A lone Vulkin looked up from the trash piles they’d been scrounging through when Paps and Edge emerged from the tunnel. They ran immediately, running for cover as if they were afraid for their life.

Belatedly, Paps realized that they probably were.

“stars above…” he said, looking around them.

“This is Alphys’ territory, but she’s too interested in her science projects to look after it. Mettaton has a few facilities that he maintains, but largely, the gangs run it. None of them are particularly interested in keeping the streets clean.”

He pointed to a bit of graffiti that looked like a stylized spider. “The Spiders are the largest gang at present, and the most stable. We’re in their territory—Muffet’s territory—right now. Since she’s expecting us, we probably won’t have much trouble. Her people will be watching for us and making it as easy to reach her as possible. It’s getting out that will be more interesting. Which is what you’re here for.” He squeezed the back of Paps’ neck, and Paps wasn’t sure if he found it more threatening or reassuring. “Ready?”

“no.”

Edge smirked. “You’re smarter than you look. Let’s go.”

Paps glared at him. “you know you just insulted yourself too, right?” he asked as Edge walked away.

“Keep up, pet; you don’t want to be out here alone. Believe me.” Grumbling under his breath, Paps hurried to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: non-graphic descriptions of an abusive relationship between a minor and an adult, and some dub-con at the end. Nothing too explicit, but I want to be safe here. Also, Undyne says the "c" word. (But we're all thinking it.)
> 
>  
> 
> Felldyne ships it hard. Lol.


	16. Come into my parlor....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Said the cunning spider to the fly, 'Dear friend, what shall I do,  
> To prove the warm affection I’ve always felt for you?  
> I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;  
> I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice?'  
> 'O no, no,' said the little fly, 'kind sir, that cannot be;  
> I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.' "
> 
> \--excerpt from "The Spider and the Fly" by Mary Howitt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in the end notes. I urge you to read it if you have trouble dealing with certain themes.

At first, the spiderwebs strung between shops and across alleyways were infrequent and almost unnoticeable. As they walked deeper into Muffet’s territory, though, they grew denser. Graffiti covered the walls. That same spider symbol reappeared repeatedly, but there were also curse words and crude sayings tagged on the storefronts. Occasionally, a section of wall would host a huge piece of graffiti. Almost like a mural.

To Paps’ surprise, these pieces were often shockingly artful. Though he could have done without an up-close view of a Pyrope’s genitalia. As educational as that was. The subject matter was often questionable—usually it depicted something distasteful or uncomfortable—but the skill behind it was undeniable. Paps actually felt a momentary pang, wondering who these artists were and what their equivalents in the Tale verses were like.

He was also surprised to see that the propaganda posters weren’t as thick here as they were in Snowdin. Closer to the access shafts, they’d been a pretty heavy presence, but as they went deeper and deeper into Spider territory, there were definite signs that the posters had been torn down or even vandalized. Instead, slogans like ‘Fuck the Dogs’ and even cruder sayings—there were some very unflattering things about Undyne and Alphys that he found genuinely distressing—were often spray painted over the posters.

True to Edge’s prediction, they didn’t really encounter any monsters. Most ran as soon as they caught sight of Edge—and, really, Paps didn’t want to think about that too deeply, or he might get upset. Those that didn’t simply slipped into side streets or doorways to watch as they walked past, their too-sharp teeth glinting and their eyes lit with malevolent magic. A few called out insults to Edge or blew Paps mocking kisses. “Just keep your head down,” Edge told him the first time it happened.

It took Paps a while to realize it, but eventually, he had to conclude that they were being followed. Overhead, he could hear scuttling and scurrying, but every time he glanced up, he could only see spiderweb and, occasionally, a glimpse of claw or a passing shadow. Edge didn’t so much as glance up, and he didn’t react to the insults tossed his way, though Paps suspected he was well aware of both.

The only time he really reacted to their surroundings at all was to a young monster, busy scrounging through the trash. Apparently, the kid hadn’t gotten out of the way fast enough; so, casually, Edge aimed a kick at the kid’s side. The kid dodged easily enough and scrambled backwards, while Edge snapped, “Out of the way, gutter-rat.”

Paps was really coming to hate Underfell. Not just because it was a miserable shit-hole of a universe, but because of what it did to Edge. The longer they were here, the crueler and harder Edge became. His features were cold and distant, without any hint of the skeleton that had pieced together a puzzle with Blue, or the skeleton that had fiercely declared that looking after Red was _not a waste_ , or even the skeleton that had traded morbid jokes with Undyne. This Edge was frighteningly close to the monster Paps had always imagined him to be…and Paps wanted the other Edge back. Seeing him like this made his soul ache.

Soon enough—too soon, perhaps—they came to a nondescript bakery. Paps eyed it. “you’re joking, right?” he asked as they approached. This building looked like it belonged in a Tale verse. There were no iron bars on the windows or door. The lettering in the window was a bright purple, reading ‘Muffet’s Muffins and More’. Someone had painted a happy looking spider-muffin in the window’s corner—not with graffiti this time but with proper window paint.

“You must be a terrible Judge,” Edge observed, “if all you use is your eyes.” He reached for the door, but it opened before he could so much as touch the door handle. The monster standing in the doorway was, to say the least, not what Paps expected.

She was dressed more colorfully than any other monster he’d yet seen in this universe. Pink and purple suffused her garb, which he could only describe as ‘Victorian Lolita’. Unlike her Tale alternate, she had two pairs of arms and two pairs of legs, rather than a single pair of legs and three pairs of arms. Her figure was more generous as well—pear-shaped rather than hour-glass, but very nice nonetheless. Seeing them, she smiled sweetly, and Paps couldn’t help but think that she didn’t belong in a Fell-verse. Hell, his own Muffet—tall, statuesque, and dressed formally—would have been a better fit for this universe.

Nevertheless, Edge’s warnings rang in his mind, even as she said, brightly, “Papyrus~. I’d heard you might have business to discuss with me. Come in, come _in_ , dearie; I’m just sitting down to breakfast. You and your pet are welcome to join me. Look at you; you’ve gotten so tall since I last saw you! And I just _love_ your uniform. Ahuhuhu~” Then she planted a possessive hand on Edge’s illium. The upper hand she briefly skated over his exposed spine before setting it on a spiked pauldron.

Paps swallowed down a growl. He kept a careful eye on Edge, waiting for him to snap or snarl or flinch or _something_ —but there was nothing. He didn’t so much as blink, even as Muffet used her hold on him to guide him inside. He only glanced back and said, emotionless, “Come, pet.”

Muffet paused to look Paps over, and he forced himself to look down, trying to cower rather than glower. His gaze landed on her clawed hand, the fingers playing lightly over Edge’s iliac crest. Something hot and hard and sharp grew within his soul, welling up from that possessive/protective part of himself.

He almost missed the way her eyes—all eight of them—lingered on his exposed bones and the bite-mark on his sternum and clavical. She giggled and said, “Oh, Papyrus; I never thought you’d be one to take in a sweet-piece. You’re far too rough for that. Look what you’ve done to his poor collar-bone. You’ll end up breaking him, dearie. Ahuhuhu~”

“He’s stronger than he looks,” Edge replied. He didn’t sound like himself. His voice was flat, toneless.

“Is he?” she asked, and something predatory flickered in her eyes. Suddenly, Paps wasn’t finding it quite so difficult to play afraid anymore.

She ushered them inside, behind the bakery counter. Paps couldn’t help but glance over and note how pretty and perfect each pastry appeared. He was also somewhat surprised by the listed prices. Undertale’s Muffet charged exorbitantly for her baked goods, but these were all very reasonably priced—expensive, perhaps, but considering the obvious quality of her work, the prices seemed reasonable.

Then he remembered that baking was not her primary business, and it made a lot more sense.

She took them into the kitchen, where she had a small table laid out with a plate of scones and other pastries, a pot of tea, a smaller carafe of coffee, cream, sugar, and various jams. There were also two plates, two cups, two saucers. And two chairs. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Oh, dear,” she said, “I’m afraid that, while I was expecting company—“ She squeezed Edge’s illium. “—I wasn’t expecting quite so _much_ company. Excuse me for a moment, boys. Please, please; take a seat.”

She released Edge, and something inside of Paps unclenched. He tried to catch Edge’s eyelight, tried to get a read on him, but he was completely closed off. Paps held in a frustrated sigh; how was he supposed to follow Edge’s lead if he couldn’t even see where he was going?

The two skeletons sat across from each other, but Edge wasn’t looking at Paps. His gaze was fixed on Muffet, who had taken a small bell from an upper shelf. She rang it, and a spiderling appeared. Was it…dressed as a cupcake?

Well. That. Sure was. A thing.

She bent and patted the spiderling on the head, saying, “Go and fetch me another place setting; we’ve got an extra guest.” The spiderling pushed into her hand, purring, before it ambled away. One of its legs appeared to be twisted, and it had an obvious limp when it walked. Muffet straightened and returned to them, that gentle smile still on her face.

“Oh, goodness~” she said, “did you two wait for me? That’s not necessary, my dears. Papyrus, you know better; you should have told your pet that he could eat.”

“You’re right,” Edge replied, “I do know better.” His voice was clipped and hard, and when Muffet laughed in response, her fangs flexed. She swayed as she walked close, planting a hand on his shoulder again.

“Oh, dearie. I almost forgot how much I missed you. You’ve always been my favorite.” With that, she sat in his lap, wrapping a lower arm around his pelvis and an upper arm around his back. For an instant, Edge lost his poker face. He looked stricken and terrified, sockets wide. Then he buried his emotions again, and by the time Muffet turned back to regard him, he was composed once more. It was only a momentary lapse, a split-second reveal, but Paps caught it, and something ugly woke within him in response.

_this bitch is dead_.

Magic guttered in his socket, though Edge narrowed his eyes disapprovingly. Muffet noticed immediately. “Ahuhuhu~. Your pet’s _adorable_ , dearie. Is he jealous?”

“Perhaps I have been rather exclusive with my attentions of late.” He said this with a warning growl aimed at Paps. Forcing himself not to glare at the edgelord—the orders ‘keep your eyes down and your mouth shut’ echoing in his mind—he fixed his gaze on the plate. Only Edge’s admonishment not to trust the food kept him from grabbing one of the scones or muffins. He hadn’t had breakfast yet, and while he hadn’t been using as much magic as Edge, he could have used the energy boost.

Muffet saw his glances, and a cruel edge sharpened her smile. “Go on, dearie~,” she said, “They won’t bite.” Then, as if to prove it, she reached out and plucked a scone from the stack. “Baked fresh this morning. May I recommend the strawberry jam? It is quite a treat.” She spread a thin layer of strawberry jam over the top of the scone, then held it up to Edge’s mouth, smirking

This, apparently, was further than he was willing to play. He shook his head, teeth firmly shut. “Ahuhuhu~” she laughed. “You and your little hunger strikes,” she said, smiling condescendingly, “You only hurt yourself, dearie. You know that, don’t you?” She took a pointed bite of the scone, and Paps wondered if that meant that these, at least, were safe to eat. When she held it back up to Edge, however, he still refused to take a bite.

She shrugged and finished off the scone, neatly licking jam from her fingers. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be to your taste anyway,” she said. A sly smile stretched her mouth. “I caught something interesting in my web early this morning and made a batch of my special flour. It really does add something to the dough, I think. But I’m not sure if I’m so fond of the aftertaste. It’s almost sour. A bit like…mustard, perhaps?”

Paps didn’t actually understand what she was saying, at first. Then he pieced it together.

Horror. Revulsion. Disbelief. His soul churned and his mind went briefly blank, too shocked and horrified to accept what he was hearing. No. No. Not even in Underfell—

_oh, stars. please, no._

Edge reacted somewhat differently. He summoned a sharpened bone construct and pressed it into her cheek, then wrapped a clawed hand around her neck. Leaning in, he hissed, “That joke’s in rather poor taste, wouldn’t you say?”

The terrible thing was, Paps actually wanted to laugh at that. Did Edge even realize what he’d just said? _red would love that one_ , he thought, knowing that the smaller skeleton tended to favor macabre humor. He bit down on a phalange, forcing himself to focus on the pain to keep himself from devolving into hysterical laughter.

Muffet giggled, turning so that their faces were only a few fingers’ width apart. The bone construct sliced into her flesh, but she didn’t so much as flinch. Blue ichor welled from the cut and slid down her cheek. “There he is,” she cooed, “You know I hate it when you go dull-eyed on me, dearie~. It’s no fun if you don’t fight back.” She raised a hand and ran a claw down his cheekbone, a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

“Let’s get to the point, shall we?” Paps bit down harder, trying not to giggle. _stars above, the edgelord puns when he’s angry_. Or maybe Paps was imagining it. That one was rather weak. “Where is my brother and what do you want for him?”

“I’m surprised you’re so concerned,” she said, reaching out to pour herself a cup of tea. As if an angry, 7 foot-tall skeleton didn’t have a bone dagger pressed to her cheek and a hand around her neck. She blew delicately on the tea before adding, “You seem to have found a replacement for your little pet already. And this one’s a good deal more attractive than the other, might I add.” She smiled sweetly at Paps, and he tightened his hands on the table’s edge, trying to convince himself not to simply teleport away.

Edge glanced up at him, and Paps froze, suddenly not sure which of them he found more frightening. The edgelord was incandescent with suppressed rage. “Muffet,” Edge said, voice low and a lot steadier than Paps would have expected, “you of all people know _exactly_ what I am capable of when I let myself off leash. You want to discuss business? Then discuss. Or I’m going to start removing body parts.”

Paps absolutely believed it. In that moment, he would have believed that Edge was capable of just about anything. “Ahuhuhu~. You always did have a dramatic streak.” She took a sip of tea, again completely unconcerned. “Put your toy away, dearie,” she said, motioning to the bone dagger, “You and I both know you aren’t going to use it. I know—“ She turned so that she could look him in the socket, and for just a moment, she faltered when she saw his expression. Then she smiled and continued, patting his cheek condescendingly.

“I know you too well. The problem is that you _care_ , dearie~. No matter how hard I’ve tried to strip you of that particular fault, I could never eradicate it entirely.”

_wait._ Paps looked between Edge and Muffet, replaying the earlier conversation with Undyne—and Undyne’s description of Muffet. _(“…she likes to tear the innocence out of them.”)_

“It makes you painfully easy to manipulate. And predict. Like I said, you’re not going to hurt me, because I am the one stabilizing influence in this part of the Underground. Eliminate or weaken me, and you’ll ignite a gang war. The struggle for territory could last a decade or longer. How much dust would be shed as a result? You wouldn’t do such a thing for a moment of petty revenge.”

For a while, Edge stared her down. Then his hand tightened, dissipating the bone construct. “What do you want?” he asked.

She leaned forward and kissed him. He jerked away, shuddering. She caught his mandible and pulled him back to hiss against his mouth, “I really have missed you, dearie~. All that work—“ She ran a claw down his scar. “—and who reaps the benefits? I never intended for you to become one of the king’s _dogs_.” The abject disgust in her voice was probably the first genuine emotion Paps had heard from her.

Before Edge could respond, the door opened and the spiderling returned, awkwardly limping on three legs as it carried a spare plate, saucer, cup, and silverware in its ‘hands’. It trilled happily when it saw Muffet, tottering up to the table to put the new place setting beside her. When it tried to climb into her lap, though, Muffet gently pushed it off saying, “No, no, Cupcake~. Mummy’s working.”

The spiderling turned away, disappointed—only to happily climb into Paps’ lap, purring loudly. Paps froze, completely unprepared for this. The spiderling wasn’t hurting, him, though, and…it was kind of cute. In a ‘so ugly it’s adorable’ kind of way. Hesitantly, he lowered a hand to pet the creature. Okay. This was. Fine. He could handle this.

“Careful,” Edge warned, “She bites.”

Muffet giggled at Paps’ expression. “She’s already had her breakfast, dearie~. You’re perfectly safe. You let me know if she becomes…peckish, however. Ahuhuhu~” Paps went stock-still. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with this place? “Now,” she said, settling back against Edge’s chest. She daintily held her tea cup and saucer in one set of hands. The other set, Paps saw, was fondling Edge’s iliac crest and his lumbar spine. “To business?”

He badly wanted to summon a Gaster blaster and blow this bitch away—but by positioning herself as she had, he couldn’t hurt her without hurting Edge as well. Any attack he aimed at her would be ripe with the intent to harm; it didn’t matter if the attack struck her or someone else. Besides, he had told Edge that he would allow the Fell monster to handle things. Nevertheless, outrage hummed in his soul when he saw how casually the spider monster touched Edge. As if she had the right.

(Later, he would deal with the self-aware voice whispering that _he_ didn’t have the right either. Later. _Later_.)

“Finally,” Edge said. She scraped her claws along his illium in punishment, earning a slight grimace of pain.

“Your brother is a very valuable commodity, dearie~. Whatever his other faults, I must admire our king for one thing, at least—he certainly knows the value of a good scapegoat. And so, I might add, do I; there are many monsters that would pay good money for the chance to take their frustrations with the King out on his Royal Judge.” She wrapped a hand around Edge’s spine and squeezed. “So, dearie~. Out of respect for our past association, I will give you this chance to make me an offer. What would you do to get your brother back?”

Edge’s eyelights had gradually faded as she spoke. Then, to Paps’ surprise, he started to return Muffet’s touches. He wrapped a hand around her abdomen and ran his phalanges over the curve of her hip. His other hand grasped hers, squeezing the wrist. He bent down to rest his chin on her shoulder. “I won’t bargain with you until I know he’s still alive and whole,” Edge said. He pressed his mouth to her shoulder blade. “Have some of your goons escort my pet to his location. He can verify that Sans is alive and well, and then we can make a deal.”

“Oh, but dearie, how shall we _ever_ entertain ourselves in the meantime?” She giggled, fingering the discs of cartilage between his vertebrae. Then she hissed when Edge bit her shoulder through her dress. “Heathen!” she accused, “That’s no way to treat good spider-silk.”

“I’m a gutter-rat,” he growled, his eyelights completely gone by now, “Did you honestly expect me to behave myself?”

She laughed. It was not her normal giggle, but something darker and deeper. Malevolent. “Oh, dearie~” she said, too-sweetly, “I’m going to tear you apart.”

“I expect nothing less.” Paps felt cold and sick. He barely noticed when Muffet rang the bell again. Apparently she’d brought it back to the table with her. This time, a trio of spiderlings appeared. ‘Cupcake’ growled at them, though Muffet hushed the crippled spiderling. She instructed them to take Paps to Red’s location, ordering them to keep him safe and unharmed. “He’s to remain untouched,” Edge said, “or you’ll find I’m not in a bargaining mood anymore.”

“Certainly, dearie.” She pulled out her phone and began texting. Edge looked over her shoulder, nodding in approval. “Acceptable?”

“Yes.”

All the while, Muffet’s free hands were all over him. And Edge just. Endured. “…boss?” Paps said quietly, “are you—?”

Edge growled at him. “Go with the spiderlings, pet. You know what you need to do.” That message was clear enough, but—? How was Paps supposed to just _leave_ him here? At the dubious mercy of this _creature_?! Edge’s hollow sockets bored into him, silently willing him to follow orders and do as he’d been told.

Minutely, Paps nodded, even though he thought he was going to be ill.

Muffet giggled. “How _cute_ ~. He’s gotten attached. You must tell me where you found him, dearie~.”

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” Edge said as Paps allowed himself to be lead away. The last thing he heard was Muffet’s disconcerting laughter, then the spiderlings were guiding him down side-streets and alleyways. He lost track of the streets’ twists and turns—this was nothing like his Hotland’s shopping district. Just as before, when he was traveling with Edge, monsters ducked away when they caught sight of his escort. Paps didn’t care. All he could think about were Edge’s dark sockets and his final order: ‘You know what you need to do.’

Yes. He did.

Eventually, they came to a nondescript building—the shop-front was boarded up and spray paint covered the exterior. One of the spiderlings walked forward and scratched at the door. It opened a crack, revealing a vibrant red eye. Then the door was pulled back entirely, and a huge Knight Knight stood before them. She eyed the spiderlings and Paps, then silently opened the door to let them through. A Madjick cackled when Paps walked past the Knight Knight warily.

Beyond the Madjick, Red was propped up against the wall, hands bound in purple spider silk. “what did you do to him?” Paps demanded, rushing forward.

“Nothing, sweet-piece,” said the Madjick, “We’ve just been keeping him sedated. Can’t have him teleporting away, now can we?”

Before Paps could reach Red, a huge hand caught his forearm and lifted him up off the ground. He kicked his feet, but the Knight Knight just held him up and seemed to study him curiously. The Madjick hopped down from the boxes he’d been hovering above to study him from all angles. He whistled in appreciation. “Didn’t think the dogs got paid so well; this ‘piece must of cost a fortune.”

Paps was getting really tired of being called a sweet-piece. “put me down,” he said, eyelight guttering.

The Fell monsters glanced at each other. The Knight Knight didn’t laugh aloud, but her body heaved in a familiar rhythm. The Madjick was not so composed. He performed a free-floating back-flip, giggling to himself and hugging his knees, feet kicking as he did so. “Guess the sweet-piece has a spine after all,” he said, the tips of his toes barely brushing the ground as he came back to a standing position. “…but just to be sure, let’s take a look, huh?”

Wait. What? Paps’ magic went dead, disbelief and bewilderment killing his anger immediately.

The Knight Knight lowered him a little so she could get a better look at him. “…pretty…” she observed, her free hand running over his mandible. His sockets went wide and he, uselessly, tried to jerk out of her grasp.

“Nah-uh, Knighty,” said Madjick, his whole body flickering in a wink. “The Spider said not to touch him.” His smile spread across his face, too broad and revealing far too many teeth. “She didn’t say not to look, though.” Madjick laughed, tucking his feet up under himself and levitating in the cross-legged position. “So…what will it be, sweet-piece? You want to give us a show? Or are you gonna make Knighty here strip you down? We’ll enjoy ourselves either way; I promise.”

Paps looked between them, appalled and alarmed…and more surprised than he should have been. The spiderlings had scattered and were now gathered in the abandoned shop’s corners, happy to watch the proceedings. Assuming they understood what was going on at all. He took a breath, trying to ignore the way his bones rattled audibly. “put me down, and i’ll…i’ll give you a show.”

The Madjick cackled, twisting and wiggling excitedly mid-air. “Go on and put him down, Knighty. Keep close, in case the pretty sweet-piece decides to get frisky.” He shifted so he was lying down on his front mid-air, gaze fixed on Paps. With a surprising degree of care, the Knight Knight set him down and took a single step back. It was enough.

Paps raised his command hand and summoned a Gaster blaster. It’s appearance was enough to unsettle the two monsters. Paps took the opportunity to fire the blaster on the Madjick. He ducked and ran when the Knight Knight tried to grab him. All he had to do was—

A huge hand grabbed his upper thigh. His soul sank. He raised his command hand, but purple webbing shot from one of the ceiling corners and tangled between his carpals and metacarpals. The Knight Knight pulled him in and lifted him up by his ankle. His undershirt fell, blocking his vision. The Madjick cackled. “Sweet-piece has some moves. Who knew?” Paps tried to grab at his shirt so he wasn’t blind anymore and swipe at the Knight Knight simultaneously. “Nah-ha, pretty ‘piece. You’re not going anywhere.” With embarrassing ease, the Knight Knight grabbed his hands and held him still, causing his spine to arc backward uncomfortably.

The Madjick tugged his undershirt down firmly, until it acted as a makeshift blindfold… and revealed everything from his illium to his clavical. The Madjick whistled. “Hoo-hoo, look at those pretty little bones.” Paps was breathing hard now, trying to ignore the eyes on his ribcage and spine.

“Oh, sweet-piece…you’re so lucky,” said the Madjick, and Paps felt warm air on his sternum as the monster leaned close for a better look. The bite-mark burned hot, Edge’s magic reacting to the presence of another monster. “Look how pretty you’ve been kept. Spoiled little lapdog, are you? Your master keeps you all warm and safe, doesn’t he?” There was an unmistakable thread of bitterness in his voice. Then the bitterness turned cruel and manic. “Hey-uh, Knighty? Can you lower him down a bit? I got an idea.”

The Madjick cackled as the Knight Knight lowered him. “Spider said we couldn’t _touch_ , right? But she didn’t say anything about this.” He heard clothing rustling. Then the Madjick started to moan. Wait. Wait, no. He wasn’t—He _wasn’t_!

He was. Paps’ soul twisted and lurched. He struggled in the Knight Knight’s hold, trying to wrest himself free. The Madjick laughed breathily. “Tha’s right, sweet-piece. Struggle for me. Yes, just like that.” Then he started talking and moaning, but Paps blocked it out, blocked out the insults disguised as flattery. The Madjick’s breathing picked up. _no. no. no.no.no.no. n o !_ Then he cried out, and something hot and wet spattered across Paps’ ribcage, and he sobbed aloud, shuddering and jerking in the Knight Knight’s hold.

The Madjick, panting, laughed. “Go ahead and put him down, Knighty. I think he’s learned his place.” The Knight Knight righted him, and set him gently on his feet. Paps shuddered and gasped when the Madjick’s—when _it_ started to drip down his ribcage. _this isn’t happening_ , he decided. Mechanically, he tugged his undershirt down, and the— _it_ soaked into the fabric. _t h i s  i s n ‘ t  h a p p e n i n g ._

It was. It did.

“Well?” the Madjick asked, gesturing for him to walk over to Red. “The Spider can’t start her dealing until your master knows his other pet is alive and whole.”

Paps nodded numbly and stepped forward, aware that he was trembling. He knelt down, put a hand on Red’s shoulder, and took a shortcut. The cavern that housed the Fell-verse brothers’ machine materialized around them, though he couldn’t see much due to the deep darkness. Huh. _that was surprisingly easy_ , he thought to himself, numb.

Magic, hot and slick, flooded his mouth, and he turned to the side to vomit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers (in order): implied past (abusive) sexual relationship between a minor and an adult, implied cannibalism, non-consensual touching of a sexual nature, sexual coercion, and finally, non-consensual cum-marking. There is no penetrative rape, but the non-consensual themes are very strong in this chapter. It is not romanticized and it is not fetishized either.
> 
>  
> 
> ...I am so sorry. If anyone wants to throw rocks at me...well, I can't say I blame you. I've been throwing them at myself all day. This chapter messed me up, guys. I'm so sorry.


	17. A lesson in empathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge negotiates and nobody walks away satisfied.
> 
> Previous chapter summary (minus the triggering content):  
> Muffet is incredibly creepy, all while appearing cute and sweet. She knows Edge very well, knows what buttons to press, how to press them, and knows that his biggest weakness is that he actually gives a damn. She allowed Paps to leave so that he could confirm that Red was alive and well, which left Edge alone in her clutches and Paps without Edge's protection. She issued orders that her minions were not to touch him, at Edge's prompting, but while they followed her exact words, they nevertheless violated the Tale-verse skeleton. Thinking that he was 'put in his place', they allowed him to reach Red, and Paps took the both of them back to the cavern with the machine. As it turns out, despite lacking internal organs, skeletons can indeed vomit.
> 
> Edge is still with Muffet. Currently, she is in his lap, and it was fairly strongly implied that the two were going to engage in relations while Paps was gone. "Cupcake" is the name of Muffet's pet. She is a spiderling dressed as a cupcake, and the only genuinely cute thing in the previous chapter. Unless she's hungry. Also, Edge puns when he's angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see the end-notes for the trigger warning. Please skip to the ##### to avoid the triggers.

“Hmm,” Muffet said when Paps was gone, “I love your pet, dearie~. What are the chances of seeing the two of you together? Promise I won’t touch.” Without really thinking about it, Edge dug his claws into her wrist and her hip, growling against her shoulder blade. She laughed, setting her saucer down so she could reach back to stroke her fingers along his skull.

(He would need a shower after this. Long and hot enough to scald.)

“Is that your deal?” he asked, pulling her hand up to his mouth. He laved at her wrist, ignoring the uncomfortable tug on his soul as he conjured his tongue. “You always used to favor business over pleasure.” She dragged a claw down his coronal suture. He shuddered and exhaled heavily, unable to remain impassive. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she knew what he liked.

“Oh, dearie~. Why choose when you can have both?”

“Are you talking about business and pleasure? Or myself and my pet?”

She giggled, and it actually seemed genuine this time. “I have missed you,” she said quietly, still tracing his coronal suture. He didn’t reply, and she trailed her hand down the back of his skull, fingers slipping under his scarf—then she wrapped her claws around his cervical vertebrae, scratching the bone and cartilage. He hissed and arched, but she didn’t release him. “Now, now,” she said, lacking the sweetness she usually projected, “I know you’ve missed me too, my Papyrus.”

He growled, ignoring the pain of her hold to snarl, “I’ve missed you like I’d miss a hole in my head.”

“Don’t tempt me; that can be arranged,” she said, but she loosened her hold. Now she toyed lightly with the abused vertebrae. “I didn’t really believe it,” she said, “when they said you’d been taken in by that _dog_.”

“You’re not allowed to feel betrayed, Muffet. You left me for dead. Undyne picked up the pieces and made something useful out of them.”

Muffet giggled, pinching the cartilage between her claws. He cursed, tightening his hand around her hip and digging his claws into her thigh. “Poor girl. We know how you repay your debts, don’t we? Tell me, I’ve always been curious—what does our dear Captain’s dust taste like?”

His soul pulsed, threatening to expel the little magic it held. “Ash and dust,” he snarled, “Just like your fucking cupcakes.”

She elbowed him in his broken ribs, causing him to bend forward with a sharp inhale. His armor protected him from taking any damage, but it still _hurt._ Unfortunately for her, her current place on his lap forced her to bend as well—neither of them were in a comfortable position at the moment. Her teacup fell from her hand, shattering and spilling tea everywhere. Riding out the pain, he took the opportunity to wrap one arm around her waist, trapping two of her arms beneath his. With one hand, she raked her claws down the side of his face—not deep enough to draw marrow, but he could feel the topmost layer of bone peeling off.

“I am an incredibly forgiving monster, dearie~,” she said, and by the standards of Underfell, she wasn’t actually wrong, “But if you insult my cooking again, I will dust your brother and force-feed you his remains.”

They held that pose for a few moments while Muffet tested his hold on her arms. Despite his injury and his low magic reserves, he remained strong and steady. She wasn’t getting free until he released her. He straightened, keeping those two arms trapped. His ribs ached though he continued to suppress his pain, and the scratches on his face stung. “You still haven’t told me what you want,” he said, working to keep his breathing steady and even.

“Haven’t you guessed?” she asked, turning her head so she could look at him, “I want you back under me.” He didn’t think the double-entendre was unintentional. Did she actually think that was an enticement?

 _(High off EXP. High off LV. Hands on his ilium. Hands on his ribs. Hands on his spine. Hands_ everywhere _. “Tell me you want this, dearie.” Not knowing what he wanted. Knowing only that she obviously did, and it was always in his best interest to please her._

_“I want this.”)_

He scoffed. “Don’t over-estimate the runt’s value to me, or we’ll both be leaving here disappointed.” She certainly didn’t need to know the lengths he would go to for his brother.

“Ahuhuhu~. I don’t think I am. Besides,” she said, trailing her free hands over his iliac crests, “you were meant for more than playing guard dog.”

He shifted his hips, wanting to get away from her touch but knowing he was well and truly trapped. (He was going to scrub down with steel wool or a wire brush when this was over. It would take off the top layer of bone and remove any trace of her. Yes. Blue probably had some steel wool in his cleaning supplies.) “Yes,” he agreed sarcastically, “because running drugs and breaking debtor’s kneecaps is such a noble occupation.”

She squeezed his patella in warning. “At least I don’t whore myself out to that bastard on the throne,” she said sharply, raking her claws on the inside of his ilium. He bucked into her, unable to remain unresponsive to the pleasure-pain. He cursed under his breath, tightening his hold on her waist and trapped arms. “Tell me, Papyrus, how many monsters have you dusted in _his_ name? How many have you brought before him so that he can grow his army? Or so he can raise their LV? Don’t pretend that I’m the bad guy here, and don’t play the victim with me. Your hands are just as dirty as mine, and you know it.”

She reached back to pump his spine, and he inhaled sharply, hating the reactions she was wringing from him. He swallowed down a groan and grabbed her hand, squeezing. “We all do what we must. You taught me that.” He pressed his mouth against the nape of her neck and scraped the flesh with his sharp teeth, then laved at the damaged skin with his summoned tongue.

Then, distantly, he felt the magic he’d forced on Paps activate. ~~Stars above, he was as bad as Muffet—forcing Paps to bear his mark, pushing his claim on the other skeleton without even attempting to get permission or explain what he was doing.~~ The intent he’d woven into the magic was meant to ward off other monsters, a more potent signal than even the worn collar. Feeling it activate caused his soul to pulse; someone with ill intent was a lot closer to Paps than they should have been. Suddenly, he gripped Muffet’s throat in his free hand, forcing her jaw up and her head back so that he could hiss in her ear, “If any harm has come to my pet….”

She blinked, surprised. “Why would you—?” she asked, voice strained. He sank his teeth into her shoulder, biting until he tasted ichor. She moaned, grinding down on him and squeezing his ilium uncomfortably tight. “Papyrus~,” she said breathily.

(Blue probably had some bleach too. He could use that after the steel wool. It would burn, but that was fine. In fact, that was good. He’d welcome the pain, knowing that it would come with the certainty that he was _clean_.) “That bite mark isn’t just for show,” he growled against her neck, “He bears my magic, and one of your goons is getting much closer to him than they should be.”

She clawed at his pelvis, her intent sharp enough to cut to the marrow. Pained, he pressed his forehead into her shoulder, panting. “If they’ve harmed him,” she breathed, still grinding against him, “I’ll deliver their dust to you personally.” He nodded, satisfied. “Enough talking,” she ordered. With one hand, she drew up her skirts and tucked them so she was exposed. “Get to work.” He released her wrist to reach forward and—

_Start by heating the chocolate in a metal bowl set over a pot of simmering water. Stir the butter in until the mixture is smooth. Remove the bowl from the heat, and whisk the sugar into the chocolate. Add the eggs and whisk well. Sift the cocoa powder over the chocolate and stir until just combined. Don’t over-stir or the cake will be tough. Pour the mixture into a greased pan and bake at—_

She pulled his hand away and brought it to her mouth, sucking on his fingers. She bit down, piercing the gloves and pinching his joints between her fangs. He inhaled sharply and growled, then—

_But flourless chocolate cake was easy. Boring, almost. There were recipes he hadn’t been able to try yet, simply due to lack of resources and equipment. He’d love to try macaroons, but he’d need a convection oven. Maybe he should talk to Alphys? She’d want something for it, of course, but they could probably work something out. Of course, he’d need almond flour as well, and that was—_

#####

Muffet’s phone rang, and she growled in frustration. With Muffet, though, business always came first. “What?” she demanded, far from her typical cheer. Edge couldn’t hear what was said in reply, and he was not about to try Paps’ technique for eavesdropping. He pulled his hand away and ran it over her throat, hardly daring to hope but….

Well. At heart, he’d always been an optimist.

“He was sedated!” she snarled, and Edge mentally and physically readied himself. If Paps had—“What do you mean, they disa—?” She dropped the phone and called up her magic, forming webbing between her fingers. She tried to catch his hands, tried to tie him to the chair, but he was ready for her. Releasing her abruptly, he shoved her forward. Her stomach connected with the table’s edge, jostling the dishes.

He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the table. Muffet snarled and clawed at his humeri with her upper hands. Her lower hands pushed against the table, trying to free herself. He cracked her head against the table once more. Changing tactics, she reached back with her lower hands and took hold of his lumbar spine, spearing his spinal column with her claws. He clenched his teeth, feeling his HP drop.

He had very little magic to spare, but this was going to take too long if he relied on physical attacks. Releasing her head, he raised his hand, calling up a bone construct to impale her through the abdomen. She gasped, ichor dripping down the red magic. His intent was strong and sharp: her HP dropped from 935 to 847. She flailed and jerked, tugging at the construct, trying to find a way to free herself.

He wouldn’t be able to hold the construct for long. Working quickly, he pulled away and ripped strips from her dress. He grabbed her hands and tied them behind her back. The construct dissipated, and he threw her into the chair before she could try anything. He pressed his knees into her legs, keeping them pinned to the chair, and he caught her by the throat, holding her down.

He heard scuttling and said, “Call her off, or I kill her.”

Muffet couldn’t move her head, but her eyes shifted between him and her pet. Licking her lips, she said, “It’s alright, Cupcake. Mummy’s just playing.” The scuttling stopped briefly, then Cupcake trilled and wandered off find some place to go to sleep. The poor spiderling had always been somewhat ‘slow’—more animal than monster, really. Combined with the twisted leg, she really shouldn’t have been able to last long in Underfell. Muffet had her soft spots too, though, and the spiderling was one of them.

They regarded each other for a while, appraising the situation. Her stomach wound glowed purple as her magic formed a protective matrix around the injury. Edge mentally checked himself and realized that he really wasn’t doing all that great. His HP was higher than it had been when he’d been brought to Underswap two days ago, but not by much, and his magic stores were woefully inadequate.

He had no idea how he was going to get out of Hotland, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he had to deal with Muffet. “So, dearie~,” she asked, grinning smugly up at him, “What now?” There was no fear in her eyes, and only the slightest trace of anxiety in her bearing. Despite everything, she knew he wasn’t going to kill her or even seriously harm her.

She was right in her previous assessment, and she knew it. Removing her or weakening her would have far-reaching consequences that he didn’t want to be responsible for, even indirectly. He’d seen the aftermath of minor gang-fights as a guard and had participated in more than one dispute over territory as one of her enforcers. He did not want to see what a protracted, wide-spread gang-war looked like.

Besides, her death would not only throw this part of the Underground into chaos, it would leave a power vacuum—and who knew what kind of monster would rise to fill it? No, better to keep the devil he knew. However, he couldn’t just walk away either. She was largely unharmed, maybe a little embarrassed. That wasn’t suitable retribution for snatching his brother. The fear of Edge’s vengeance was sometimes the only thing that kept Red from being killed or kidnapped.

Image was everything. He couldn’t allow this infraction to go unpunished.

He knew her, though. Short of death or dismemberment, nothing he did was going to faze her. He had to make this stick. He had to make sure that she never dared to bother him or Red ever again. He had to put her in her place—and in doing so, make of her a living warning to anyone that might think of harming him or those under his protection.

(Bleach would not be enough. He’d need fire. Cleansing fire.)

More gently than she was probably expecting, he cupped her chin. “Summon your soul.”

Her eyes went wide. “What?”

This was a line she’d never crossed with him. With anyone, so far as he knew. There were limits to her cruelty. “Summon your soul,” he repeated.

She shook her head, numb. “No! _No_! You can’t be serious. _Papyrus_. Be reasonable!”

“Summon your soul,” he said, “or I kill you now, consequences be damned. You dared to touch what’s mine; you will suffer for it. Summon your soul.”

“Please,” she said, shaking her head, “Don’t do this.”

“Three,” he said, “.... Two…. O—“

With a sob, she summoned her soul. It was a dim, dark, shrunken thing, and he cupped it carefully in his hands. He allowed her to sense his pity as she sagged in her bonds, staring up at him with too-wide eyes. “Pathetic,” he said, thumb on her soul, “Wretched and hopeless. How sad.” He glanced at her, noting the bone-deep fear in her eyes. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, but she was otherwise holding herself together quite admirably.

He stripped off a glove and pierced her soul with his clawed thumb. She looked confused; she’d expected pain, but she felt nothing. He held her gaze. “Lesson time,” he said, then focused his magic to project directly into her soul.

He allowed her to feel what it was like to tip-toe around another person’s emotions, not sure if you were going to be held or beaten. What it was like to know your body was not your own, that you had no say in what was done to it or how it was used. What it was like to go without eating for as long as possible. Because the food could not be trusted. Because it was used as a reward for behavior that made him ill. Because sometimes that felt like the only thing he had control over in his life.

He allowed her to experience what it was like to live under her thumb. What it was like to become everything you hated. Five years’ worth of memories and emotions—compacted, distilled and crystallized into their purest forms and delivered to her directly.

(He withheld the bright spots. The gratitude for being taught reading, writing, basic math, and cooking. The moments of peace. The times that he would bask in her praise. Life with her wasn’t always bad. She wasn’t always bad. Sometimes she was gentle. Sometimes she was kind. Even her horrifying ‘lessons’, ultimately, kept him alive. Whatever she may have done to him, he owed her that much, at least. That too was a reason not to kill her.)

“edge?” a voice asked, and he nearly crushed her soul in surprise.

Thankfully, he had better control than that. “This is very delicate,” he said, turning slightly to confirm it was, indeed, Paps. “Don’t interrupt.” He returned his attention to Muffet, who was weeping silently, bent forward and shoulders shaking. He opened his hand, releasing her soul. Immediately, the manifestation popped out of existence.

“Next time you decide to break something,” he said, leaning close, “mind you don’t cut yourself on the edges.” That earned him a hitched breath and an aborted sob. He backed away, and Muffet curled in on herself, as if she was trying to keep herself from falling apart. He reached for an arm to free her, but she flinched away, biting her lip to hold in a scream. He ignored her to grab her hands, stripping away the makeshift bonds.

Right now, the feelings themselves would be overwhelming. The long-term effects, however, would be the real punishment. He wondered how she would react when she realized that eating had become not just a chore but a punishment. A distant part of him regretted that. He pushed that part back, pushed it down. He would do whatever was needed.

He turned to Paps, and the other skeleton automatically took a step back when he saw Edge’s expression. Edge looked him up and down, sockets narrowing when he saw a wet spot on Paps’ undershirt. He walked forward, grabbing the hem. Paps grabbed his wrist, squeezing tight. “ _don’t_ ,” he said urgently.

“Is that what I think it is?” Edge asked. Paps looked away, which was answer enough. The scarred skeleton turned back to Muffet. “Spider,” he said, catching her attention, “I’m holding you to your word. Your goons damaged my property. I expect to receive their dust within ten days’ time. Do not disappoint me.”

She hadn’t yet pulled herself back together, but she still managed to nod. “Yes,” she said, “Yes, I-I’ll….” She wrapped her arms over herself, shivering. “Whatever you say,” she whispered.

Edge turned his back, dismissing her. “You got the runt?” he asked Paps.

“yeah, uh, he’s—he’s at home,” he replied, watching Edge warily. “safe.” Paps tugged nervously on the collar. “are you…can i take you back now?” Edge held out a hand, and Paps took it, taking a shortcut back to the cavern where they kept the machine.

While they waited for the machine to boot up, Edge pulled Paps’ hoodie out of his inventory. “Here,” he said, pushing it into Paps’ arms.

The other skeleton wrapped his arms around the hoodie, briefly squeezing before he tugged it over his head. “thanks,” he said softly. Then he asked, “did i, uh, hear you right? muffet’s going to-to deliver their _dust_ to you?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Would you like to know when—?”

“i-i don’t know,” Paps said, shaking slightly. “i mean, yeah, they—“ He took a breath. “but. she’s going to…. i. i. don’t know how i feel about that.”

Edge reached out, allowing his hand to hover questioningly and waiting for a hesitant nod before he set it on Paps’ shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said, trying to be gentle, but it wasn’t a comfortable fit at the moment. He couldn’t do gentle. Not when he was like this. “I’m…relieved that you’re not suddenly dust-hungry. This trip has already taken enough from you. I’m sorry I couldn’t shield you from it.”

Paps looked at him, his eyelights sorrowful. “edge. you…. with muffet, she—“

Edge tensed and took his hand away, standing tall and rigid. “Don’t.”

“edge.”

Edge turned to glare at him. “I said ‘don’t’, Swapshit. Drop it. If you want to discuss what happened to you, that’s fine. I’ll be here if you need someone to talk to, but _I do not want to talk about Muffet_. Is that clear?”

Slowly, the Tale-verse monster nodded. “yeah. i…i can respect that. just, uh, do me a favor, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground.

“You helped me retrieve my brother from Underfell; I owe you. Ask.”

Very quietly, he said, “don’t tell blue, okay? he can’t know. i don’t want him to—to look at me like-like….” He hunched in on himself, cupping his elbows in the opposite hands.

“Easy, Swapshit. I won’t tell Blue. Or anyone, for that matter.” He took a breath and added, “What happened isn’t your fault—“

 _“i know that_ ,” he hissed, angry but not, he thought, at Edge.

“Alright. If you have trouble believing it, then come find me. I’ll convince you.” Spots crowded the edges of his vision, and he reached out, using Paps’ shoulder to stabilize himself. An involuntary sound escaped him—a cross between a sigh and a groan.

Paps’ sockets went wide, then they narrowed. “stars above, fuckfell. how much magic do you even have left?” He bent so that he could wrap a hand around Edge’s waist, careful not to put pressure on his injured side. Edge unfolded his arm so it was slung over Paps’ shoulders.

“E-enough,” he said, though it was probably a lie. Slowly, he began cutting back on his magic usage, allowing his body to become accustomed to the pain so that he didn’t send himself into shock.

The portal kicked on and Paps guided him through. “stupid, stubborn jackass,” Paps complained once they reached the other side, “the fuck is wrong with you? why would you suppress your pain for—asgore’s hairy ass, how long have we even been gone?” He awkwardly reached out to open the secret room’s door, and they toddled out into the snow. The air was crisp and clean and _good._ If Edge’s ribs hadn’t been broken, he would have taken a deep inhale.

“About three, maybe three n’ a half hours,” he said, feeling his consonants start to go soft as his accent began to re-appear. His pain had gone from a low-level ache to a constant throbbing. The scratches on his face and ilium stung too, but he tried to ignore that. And the cause.

“…it felt a lot longer than that.” Edge shrugged. He didn’t really disagree with that statement, but he wasn’t quite willing to validate Paps’ opinion. “anyway, what were you even thinking?” he asked.

“Mos’ly that I wanted ta get the runt back…so I could kick his ass fer making me worry.”

Paps chuckled under his breath. “yeah. gotta say, i think he’s earned that. the little shit.”

“Yeah. Fucker.” He looked down, watching their feet stir up the snow. “how was he?” he asked softly, “they didn’—?”

“he looked okay,” Paps said, “unhurt, but unconscious. they’ve been keeping him drugged. i don’t know if…if they did anything else to him, though. while he was out.”

“Blue’s got ‘im?”

“actually—“ The front door suddenly banged open, revealing Blue. With a start, Edge realized that he was not prepared to face the smaller skeleton. He was suddenly too aware of the dust and ichor on his hands, of what he had _done_ , and it paralyzed him. “edge? hey, edgelord?”

“Edge?” Blue asked, bouncing up to them. “Are you okay?”

No. No, he was not okay. He lost his grip on his magic, and the pain from his various injuries struck him all at once. His knees buckled as he inhaled sharply, teeth grit. “whoa!” Paps said, being dragged down too, “edge, _edge_ —i can’t—“

Blue darted forward to take Paps’ place, tucking a small hand around Edge’s back to rest on his scapula. “Edge?” he asked, blue eyelights staring into his. “Are you okay?” Edge turned away, closing his sockets.

“ ’m fine,” he said, voice rougher and softer than usual. It felt like an errant breeze could shatter him.

Paps, hovering nearby, threw up his hands. “stars on fire, you are _clearly_ not fine, asshole!”

“Papy!”

“LANGUAGE, LAZY-ME!”

Edge blinked, surprised to see Rus standing in the doorway. “Wonderful,” he said, “now we can be scolded ‘n stereo.” He took a breath and tried to get his legs to cooperate with him. Stars, this was humiliating. Then his sockets went wide as Rus scooped him up. He locked an arm around Rus’ neck, the other hand pressed against his chest—completely unprepared for this. “Rus,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “if you drop me—“

“FEAR NOT, EDGY-ME! YOU ARE IN THE CARE OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS~! I WOULD NEVER DROP YOU!”

“Fuckin’ fabulous,” he said under his breath, earning another chastisement, “Can ya at least stop shouting ‘n my ear?” His soul was pulsing nervously. The Sans-es always seemed so relaxed when they were being carried. Well, except Razz. How did they manage it?

“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT. YOU DON’T HAVE EARS!”

Edge glared at him. Rus could play dumb if he wanted, but Edge knew better. His attention was quickly drawn away from his duplicate, however. Inside, Blue had reconstructed his ‘nest’, though it was even more extensive. It looked like he’d even dragged in a mattress from one of the bedrooms. Nestled in amongst the numerous blankets and pillows was a small, motionless figure.

 _Sans_.

Unconscious, but apparently unharmed. Something inside of him unclenched and he had to bite down to keep from making a very undignified sound. As soon as Rus set him down—so delicately that Edge had trouble believing that this was any version of himself—amidst the blankets, Edge pulled Red his arms, briefly overcome. Under the relief, anxiety pulsed. Seeing him like this, unconscious and unresponsive and clearly more than just asleep, brought up some incredibly upsetting memories.

He pressed his forehead to Red’s, wishing that he could project security and safety, but it wasn’t in him. His magic was too low. He would have to eat something and soon, but his soul was so unsettled, he knew that wouldn’t be possible. Not for a while. Suddenly, Rus settled on the other side of Red, projecting /SECURITY/STRENGTH/CARE/LOVE/STABILITY/. In his sleep, Red sighed, though he didn’t otherwise react.

Edge looked up at Rus, just as paralyzed under his warm, golden eyelights as under Blue’s. “I need—I need ta….” Edge swallowed, wanting to relax, wanting to sink into the warmth being offered, but knowing he couldn’t. He shouldn’t be allowed. “ ’m covered in dust,” he confessed, “ ‘n there’s—on my hands. I.” He released Red and tried to get to his feet, tried to extract himself from the nest.

Rus’ smile was gentle. “EDGY-ME,” he said, loud but patient and kind, “YOU SHOULD REST.” He caught Edge’s shoulder. Holding him in place but not forcing him down.

“But—“

Then Blue was at his back, projecting /WARMTH/CARE/LOVE/SAFETY/AFFECTION/. “Here, Edge, you don’t need your armor anymore. You’ll be more comfortable if you take it off.” Edge swallowed down a whine, knowing he didn’t belong here, but wanting so badly to accept what they were offering.

“I—“ He looked between them, unable to sort out his feelings. His soul was reacting to their projections, basking in the safety and affection. “I should….”

“AND YOUR BOOTS. BOOTS ARE NOT FOR SLEEPING IN~! NYEH HEH HEH!”

“…but…” Couldn’t they see? Couldn’t they tell he didn’t belong here? There was _dust_ on his hands and blood on his scarf and _he’d altered the very fabric of another monster’s soul_. He didn’t deserve—

/WARMTH/CARE/LOVE/SAFETY/AFFECTION/

He wasn’t allowed to—

/SECURITY/STRENGTH/CARE/LOVE/STABILITY/

He shuddered under the projected affection, trying to fight it and failing. “I can help,” Blue said brightly, “but only if it’s okay with you, Edge.”

He looked between them, overwhelmed and outnumbered. Completely outmaneuvered. _Damn them_ , he thought, affectionately. “…I….” He tried to protest one last time.

“YES, EDGY-ME! LET US HELP YOU GET MORE COMFORTABLE.”

He was not going to win this, he realized. In fact, he was pretty sure that he’d already lost. They weren’t giving him anything to fight against, and their projections were making him feel half-drunk. “Fine,” he said, and tried not to jump when the two enthusiastic skeletons basically began undressing him. Rus shimmied down to pull off his boots, while Blue gently removed his gloves. As Rus went to set his boots in the hall closet, Blue unbuckled his armor. Edge just lay down and allowed them to do it, surrendering himself to their care. He pulled off his stained and tattered scarf, stashing it in his inventory with his gloves.

Blue finished with his armor and pulled off the breastplate. His eyelights went out momentarily, and he and Rus exchanged a look that Edge didn’t bother trying to interpret. He was just so tired. Instead, he reached out to his brother, looping his fingers under Red’s collar, and settled into a more comfortable position.

Distantly, he was aware that he’d lost track of Paps at some point. It shouldn’t have mattered to him. They were no longer in Underfell—the other skeleton was no longer his responsibility, no longer under his care or protection. Nevertheless, he reached out and clasped Blue’s shoulder, asking, “Where’s the Ashtray?”

“Papy went to take a shower.”

He nodded, allowing Blue to tuck a blanket around himself and Red. “Keep…keep an eye on ‘im,” he said, starting to drift. “Underfell shook ‘im up.” The lie tasted foul, but such a thing was not for him to disclose. It was Paps’ secret, and Edge would keep it for him.

“DON’T WORRY, EDGY-ME. WE’LL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING.”

His shoulders loosened and he nodded faintly. “…good….” He didn’t quite fall asleep, not really. Instead, he drifted in that hazy place between waking and sleeping. Absently, he reached out and caught Blue’s hand in his own. “Thanks,” he murmured.

“Anytime.” Blue's fingers tightened around his own, and he sighed in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: non-consensual themes (nothing too explicit), abusive relationships, references to self-destructive behaviors. Please read the note below.
> 
> This is a complex situation, so I feel that simply listing the triggers would give an inadequate impression of the scene. Edge and Muffet have a complex relationship, and while I would certainly categorize the scene as being nonconsensual (if Edge had any other options, he'd take them), it doesn't read like it. For the most part. Edge's surface thoughts, reactions, and actions would imply that he's mostly okay with this. It reads a little bit like he's engaging in rough foreplay with an ex he doesn't like. He only occasionally has deeper thoughts that imply that he is in a really, really bad headspace at the moment. Personally, I find this incredibly disturbing on an intellectual level, but it doesn't hit me the way the last chapter did. However, I can see how it could go the other way as well.
> 
> So, please guys, mind your mental and emotional health. If you start reading, and find yourself becoming overwhelmed, please stop and skip ahead to the #####. The scene will be intense and there will be some violence after that, but nothing that I would consider triggering. The worst thing that occurs doesn't have a human equivalent, so I think everyone will be safe to read it. 
> 
> Also, I promise we have fluff this chapter. Wonderful, wonderful fluff. I missed it.


	18. Picking up the pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blue tries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: graphic description of injuries

Edge’s phalanges slipped out of Blue’s, and he relaxed into the blankets. It was impossible to tell if he was actually asleep or not, since his eyelights were out but his sockets were open. Blue exchanged a look with Rus, allowing a bit of his cheery demeanor to slip. Rus’ eyelights were bright and flickering too; he was just as worried as Blue. “I’ll go get the first-aid kit,” Blue announced, standing.

“GOOD IDEA,” Rus said, a hand on Red’s shoulder. Rus sat with his back against the couch, projecting affection and safety and watching over their charges. Well. Minus one. Blue glanced up at the bathroom, the distant sound of running water too loud in the quiet house. Papy wasn’t doing well either. It had been obvious from the moment he teleported in, Red in his arms, and his eyelights hazed and too-bright with panic. He’d barely said a word, just thrust Red into Rus’ arms and said in a rush, “i’vegottogobackfortheedgelord.” Then he’d teleported away.

However, while Blue was worried for his brother’s mental health, Edge looked like he was on the verge of falling apart. Literally. Blue had almost lost it when he’d removed Edge’s breastplate. He’d thought it was bad the first time, when Red first brought his brother over for help. Now, though….

Edge was dangerously low on magic. Rather than a thick red matrix to pad the broken ribcage, fragile strings of magic held the bone fragments together. It looked like bits of bone caught in a glowing red spider web. It was, in a word, terrifying. As Edge would probably say, it wouldn’t kill him if the matrix failed entirely, but it would leave him laid up for months, and it could leave him crippled, depending on how well his body regenerated. If that wasn’t bad enough, his face and humeri were scratched up, and his spinal column was punctured.

There were deep gouges on his ilium too, and his iliac crests were scraped and scored. If Blue found the state of Edge’s ribs terrifying, he found the state of his ilium heart-rending. Despite what Papy might think, Blue wasn’t ignorant. He recognized that he probably wasn’t as well-informed as most monsters in his age-group—because he had better things to do with his time than look at pornography, thank you very much!—but he knew that a skeleton monster’s ilium was, if not explicitly sexual, very much related to the type of canoodling reserved for monsters that loved each other romantically.

Blue very much doubted that Edge had taken a break from looking for his brother to engage in consensual relations. And those scratches didn’t look like they’d been received in battle. Someone had hurt Edge in a way that no one should ever be hurt, and Blue didn’t know what to do about that.

He looked up at the bathroom again, remembering the expression on Papy’s face when he’d appeared in the living room. And his expression when he’d murmured, “i’m, uh, gonna go take a shower, ‘kay bro?” Blue squeezed his hands into tight fists, feeling helpless.

 _One step at a time_ , he reminded himself. Like following a recipe. There was a proper order to be observed. He’d worry about their physical health first, then he’d take care of their mental health. He hauled the first aid kit over—they’d simply set it on the dining room table, anticipating trouble—and knelt beside Edge. His eyelights were still out, but he was so low on magic, Blue wasn’t sure if he would even be able to light them at this point.

Rus hadn’t moved much, but he was humming quietly, one hand clasped around Red’s and the other lightly stroking the smaller monster’s skull. Even in his drugged sleep, Red seemed to lean into the touch. Blue smiled a little, seeing that. After Blue had called and explained the situation, Rus had appeared in Underswap within half an hour, ready to help.

Reminding himself to breathe, Blue surveyed Edge’s injuries again, trying to figure out where to start. The ribcage wasn’t something he could do anything about; the only thing to be done was encourage Edge to eat something, and he wasn’t quite ready for that battle yet. The gouges on his ilium and face, while upsetting, were mostly cosmetic. The deep puncture on his spine, however….

Blue dug through the first-aid kit, wishing that Fell monsters responded to green magic as well as Tale monsters did. Silently, he chastised himself for that. There was work to be done, and wishes wouldn’t do it. He pulled out a vial of disinfectant ointment, some bandages, and splints. Carefully, he reached for Edge’s—

A hand wrapped around his, the grip painfully tight. He swallowed down a pained cry, remembering how Edge had reacted last time he’d—accidentally—hurt Blue. “What ‘r ya doin’?” Edge growled, his accent thick and his speech slow. He didn’t sit up, just tilted slightly to regard Blue, but much of the tension they’d carefully soothed away had returned.

“I,” Blue started, swallowing nervously. With his eyelights out and his features fixed like that, Edge was pretty intimidating. “I was going to, um, bandage your spine. It looks—“

“Leave it,” Edge said, still growling quietly, “It’s fine.” It was not fine. Blue and Rus exchanged a look, and Edge growled louder. “Don’ pull that shit with me,” he said, “I see you two conspirin’. ‘m not _blind_. Leave it, ‘squeak.” He sat up, though it made him sway unsteadily. His shoulders were drawn in and his phalanges were reflexively smoothing away wrinkles in the blankets.

Blue bit down, forcing himself to stay focused on Edge and not to look at Rus. That certainly wouldn’t help matters—not after Edge had accused them of ‘conspiring’. Which they were, but that was hardly the point. Edge was starting to come out of the haze they’d managed to lull him into, and they couldn’t have that. He needed to rest, and he’d never stay down if he got himself wound up again. His injuries needed to be tended, though. The question was—how to accomplish that without upsetting him?

Thankfully, Rus bought Blue some time to come up with a better strategy. “LANGUAGE, EDGY-ME. THERE’S CERTAINLY NO NEED TO BE CRUDE.”

“Rus,” he said, glaring at the other Papyrus, “ ‘ve had a shitty day. If I wanna cuss, ‘m gonna cuss.” Well. Blue couldn’t really argue with that logic. Neither, apparently, could Rus. He opened his mouth, closed it, then shrugged.

“I…SUPPOSE YOU HAVE A POINT.”

Covertly, Blue studied the injured skeleton. If the matter weren’t so dire, he would have actually enjoyed this. Trying to find ways to get under Edge’s guard was a lot like a puzzle. Right now, though, it was a little exasperating; he and Rus only wanted to help. Surely Edge knew that by now, right? But getting angry wouldn’t solve anything, so Blue got smart instead. His gaze fixed on the Fell monster’s hands, still picking at the blanket. “Edge,” he asked, “would you like to wash your hands?” He’d heard what Edge had said when Rus had first set him in the blanket-nest. Besides, they had a lot more in common than Papy or Red were likely to admit. Blue knew what one of his priorities would have been, if he’d come home in Edge’s state.

Blue’s question threw Edge off. “W-what?” His phalanges stilled and sheer surprise knocked him out of his defensive posture.

“Your hands,” Blue prompted, “Would you like to wash them?”

Edge flexed his phalanges, looking down at them before darting a glance at Blue and Rus. “Why?” he asked, still suspicious.

“I’M ALWAYS MORE COMFORTABLE WITH CLEAN HANDS,” Rus said brightly, peeling off a glove, as if to showcase how clean his hands were. Thank the stars for Rus—no one else would have been able to guess Blue’s reasoning or been quite so willing to follow his lead. “THAT’S WHY I WEAR GLOVES. IS THAT WHY YOU WEAR GLOVES, EDGY-ME?” Slowly, Edge nodded, and Blue tried not to think about what had been on Edge’s gloves when he came back from Underfell. He didn’t pretend to know what the Fell-verses were like or how they operated. He only knew that Edge was a good person, and if he had dust on his hands, Blue had to believe it was for a good reason.

Edge looked between them again, then shook his head, too wary to accept the offer. “ ‘m not playing yer games. I don’ know what ya want er why, but ‘m not gonna….” He trailed off, drooping as he went on, but his shoulders had relaxed and he’d started to go hazy again. Rus glanced at Blue, then kicked up his projections. Blue shuddered a little, affected by the assault of /SECURITY/STRENGTH/CARE/LOVE/STABILITY/.

“WHY DON’T YOU LAY DOWN, EDGY-ME?” Rus coaxed, “YOU DON’T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING. WE’VE GOT EVERYTHING TAKEN CARE OF.” He hummed a few bars of one of Napsttaton’s softer, more sonorous songs, then continued to encourage Edge to lay back down.

“YES, EDGY-ME. JUST LIKE THAT. VERY GOOD. AREN’T THE BLANKETS SOFT? AND EVERYTHING IS SO WARM. THIS IS NICE, ISN’T IT?” Rus knew better than to try to touch Edge, so instead, he stroked Red’s coronal suture. Edge’s gaze fixed on Rus’ hand, following the movements as if he found them hypnotic.

Blue, meanwhile, shook off the effects of Rus’ projections and climbed to his feet, carefully padding out of the room to fetch a bowl of warm, soapy water and several soft dishtowels. He carried the bowl and the towels back to the nest and set them on the floor. Out of Edge’s line of sight, he mouthed, ‘Thank you,’ to Rus. Rus didn’t react, except to smile a little wider. Now that Edge was back on his side, Rus had stopped projecting so fiercely, but he was humming gently once more. In his sleep, Red had started to purr quietly.

Blue took a steadying breath, then reached out and touched a phalange to Edge’s hand. He flinched, but he didn’t pull away. “Whaddaya want, ‘squeak?” he asked, voice muffled by the blankets.

“I was going to wash your hands for you!” Blue said brightly.

That gave Edge pause. He lifted up a little—just enough so that he could see Blue—and studied him intently. Or he tried. Ordinarily, being scrutinized by Edge felt a bit like being dissected from afar. It was no wonder Red always seemed to start sweating under his brother’s gaze. Now, though, Edge was obviously having trouble focusing, and he was too out of it to figure out Blue’s motives and means. Again, Rus began projecting more strongly, causing Edge to sag a little. “Whatever,” he murmured, laying back down, “ ‘s not like I can stop ya anyway.”

That…didn’t sit right with Blue. Or Rus, if the slight wavering of his smile was any indication. “Edge?”

“Hmm?”

“I need you to promise me something, okay?”

“What?”

“Promise that you’ll say ‘stop’ if I hurt you or make you uncomfortable, okay? If you ask me to stop, I promise I’ll stop.” Blue’s gaze lingered on Edge’s ilium, the deep gouges and the scrapes. He was not going to force anything on the other skeleton, even if it was, ultimately, for his own good.

The remaining tension in Edge’s shoulders—tension Blue and Rus hadn’t even been aware of—melted away. “I promise,” he said quietly, then extended a hand.

“Alright,” Blue said soothingly, “I’m going to start with your phalanges, okay? You have very nice hands, Edge. Papy would too, I guess, but they’re stained because of his smoking. I keep trying to get him to quit or at least cut back, but—I’m going to start on your metacarpals now, okay? Tell me if anything hurts, or if the water gets too cold.”

“Nah,” Edge said, drowsily, “ ‘s nice. Couldn’t talk ya inta usin’ bleach, could I?”

Blue froze, forcing himself to breathe evenly. He ignored the prick of tears at the edges of his sockets. He could not start crying. It would upset Edge. Instead, he forced a smile—a person could tell if you were smiling when you spoke, even if they couldn’t see you—and said brightly, “No. If you want to whiten the bone, I’ve got some peroxide, but your bones are so pretty and white, you really don’t need it.” Swallowing, he ran the cloth over Edge’s metacarpals, and forced himself to keep up a steady stream of light, happy chatter. As if everything was okay. As if Edge wasn’t on the verge of falling apart and Red wasn’t drugged into unconsciousness and Papy wasn’t—

A wave of /SECURITY/CARE/STABILITY/STRENGTH/LOVE/ hit him, and he looked up at Rus. His eyelights were too bright with suppressed tears as well, and his smile was obviously forced, but there was strength and support there. Blue accepted it gratefully.

He looked back at Edge’s hand, announcing that he was going to move to the carpals now. Edge didn’t protest, and Blue wiped down each small bone, paying careful attention to the joints between each bone and the cushioning cartilage. Edge let out a low huff, nuzzling into the surrounding blankets. He stretched his arm out further, giving Blue better access. Though he wasn’t truly purring, there was a definite rattle at the end of his exhalations that was similar. Good.

This was the test. “I’m going to wash your ulna and radius now, if that’s alright?” Edge didn’t respond verbally, but he did nod slightly. Blue dipped the cloth into the water and wrung out the extra before he wrapped it around Edge’s ulna and wiped down the bone. He did the same to the radius, and then he carefully worked the elbow joint between his fingers, massaging it gently. Again, announcing his intentions, he moved up to the humerus. “Oh,” he said, as if he had only just realized something, “you’ve got a few scratches here. Let me know if it stings, okay?”

He cleaned the cuts, then set the cloth in the bowl. “Edge? I’m going to wrap this up. I don’t want any dirt to get into these scratches, okay?” Blue took the responding grunt as consent and carefully dabbed some ointment on the cuts before wrapping them in bandages. Finished, he looked up at Rus. His smile was encouraging, and he continued to hum, projecting security and affection all the while.

Blue swallowed. Okay, this next part might be tricky. “Is your other hand dirty?” he asked, “I could—“

Instead of answering, Edge rolled onto his front and arranged himself so that Blue had access to his other hand, and so that he wasn’t putting undo pressure on the injured half of his ribcage. Blue withheld a relieved sigh, afraid Edge would hear it and catch on. He took the skeleton’s other hand in his and winced slightly. It looked like something had _bitten_ him. The joints were inflamed and angry-looking, red magic heating the surrounding bone.

More carefully than before, he wiped down the phalanges, and again, bandaged the damaged joints. Halfway through cleaning the scarred skeleton’s other radius, the water in the bathroom turned off. Blue looked up, gaze immediately going to the bathroom door. He continued to clean Edge’s arm and bandage his damaged humerus, all while waiting for Papy to emerge. But he didn’t.

Blue’s soul started pulsing nervously. What if Papy was hurt too? What if he needed help? What if—? He forced himself to calm down and to focus on Edge. The scarred skeleton hadn’t even been able to get through the door on his own power. His brother might very well be injured, but chances were, he wasn’t as hurt as Edge. Blue would take care of him first, then he’d take care of Papy. The one bit of guard training Alphys had actually taken him through was the first aid and emergency response portion. A guard attended to those in most dire need first, and that’s what Blue would do.

Even if Papy was his brother. Even if he was obviously hurting—mentally, if not physically. Even then.

Blue finished bandaging Edge’s humerus, then he sat back on his heels, eyeing Edge’s spine and the puncture in the lumbar region. This. This would require some careful handling. The spine was a private, sensitive area. Even if Edge wasn’t shy about showing it off—and Blue had to admit, he did have a very nice spine; he wasn’t surprised that Edge liked to display it—that didn’t mean he was about to let Blue, or anyone, touch it. Even if it was just to tend the puncture on his L4 vertebra.

Surveying Edge, Blue decided that the scapula was as good a place to start as any. “Edge, is it alright if I move to your scapula? It looks like it’s got some spent magic on it.” It did not. Edge’s scapula was pristine, but Edge couldn’t see it and would hopefully take the bait. Blue did feel a little guilty about lying to him, but sometimes, a little white lie was acceptable in service of the greater good.

“ ‘s fine,” Edge said, voice soft. Blue looked up at Rus and made a quick motion with his hand, gesturing for Rus to increase the potency of his projection. For good measure, Blue started to project /LOVE/AFFECTION/CARE/SAFETY/WARMTH/ as well. He rubbed the cloth across the surface of Edge’s scapula, then firmly ran the cloth around the edges. Edge made a sound that wasn’t quite a moan, and he pushed into Blue’s hands.

Blue’s soul most certainly didn’t react to that sound. That would be inappropriate. Edge was a patient and very vulnerable right now, and Blue would never be so unprofessional while he was tending to an injured monster.

 _Darn it_.

Finished with Edge’s scapula, Blue moved to his cervical vertebrae. “Is this okay?” he asked, not bothering to come up with an excuse. Edge was either relaxed enough to allow this, or he wasn’t. He didn’t respond verbally, but he did nod. Blue again withheld a relieved sigh as he started to wipe down Edge’s vertebrae. He suppressed a brief surge of guilt. He wasn’t taking advantage of Edge—he _wasn’t_. Certainly, he’d been attracted to Edge from the moment he’d seen the taller skeleton, and that attraction had quickly grown into a budding crush as he interacted with him, but that wasn’t why he was doing this. He was doing this to keep the other skeleton relaxed while he tended his injuries. Nothing more. And if Edge said stop, he’d stop immediately.

Still, Blue had deliberately cultivated an environment to put the injured skeleton in a more agreeable state. The knowledge made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t regret it. Edge needed help, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

Finally, he reached the L4 vertebra. The whole vertebra was lit with red magic. Marrow and spent magic wept from the wound steadily, though sluggishly. “This may sting,” Blue warned him, wiping the mix of fluids away. Edge exhaled, phalanges tightening on the blankets. He shifted a little, uncomfortable, but he didn’t say stop.

“Only for a minute,” Blue said gently, cleaning the wound carefully. “I promise, I’m almost done here.” He set the cloth aside and picked up the ointment. “I’m going to put something on it, okay? It’ll keep the injury from getting infected. It’ll take just a second.” He applied the ointment, still chatting quietly. “See? Only a second. Now, I’m going to put some splints on, so you don’t bend your spine and reopen it, alright? There. All done.”

He sat back, grinning stupidly—relief and the exhilaration that always accompanied the completion of a difficult task rushing through him. Then he realized that Edge was looking at him, and he froze. Still hazy, the scarred skeleton said, “Yer a manipulative little shit, ya know that?”

“W-what?!” Blue asked, alarmed and afraid. Did Edge hate him? What did he do now? How did he fix—

“Calm down, ‘squeak. ‘m just as proud as I am pissed, ‘n ‘m more pissed at me than at you.” He closed his sockets, sighing quietly. Blue swallowed and relaxed marginally. He probably wouldn’t admit it, but Edge certainly seemed to feel at least a little better. “ ‘ll take care of the—on my ilium. Later. You go see ta yer brother. Shower’s done, ‘n he shoulda been down here by now. ‘n Rus? Turn it down; ‘m not going anywhere, so stop pumping out enough intent ta drown the Underground. I can barely think.”

“OH. SORRY, EDGY-ME.”

Edge scoffed even as he burrowed deeper into the blankets, reaching out to pull Red close. “Fuckin’ liar,” he said. The crude language caused some sputtering, but Rus didn’t try to chastise him. Blue cringed a little, but ultimately, he was more amused than offended. For now, Edge had a free pass.

Blue turned away from the three skeletons safely nestled in blankets and looked to Papy’s door. He’d likely teleported there after finishing his shower. Now Blue just needed a reason to go upstairs. Papy would shut him out if he asked outright what had happened or what was wrong. He’d just put on a smile and tell a joke or make a pun. He’d drink his honey, and he’d smoke—cigarettes or weed, which Papy probably thought he was hiding a lot better than he actually was—and he’d never ask for help, never allow anyone to get close enough _to_ help.

Between the three Papyrus-es, how did Papy manage to be the most difficult to handle? (Blue didn’t know Slim well enough to include him in the rankings.)

Well, he wasn’t the Magnificent Sans for nothing. Hands on his hips, he lifted his chin, took a breath, and devised a strategy. Nodding to himself, he darted into the kitchen and grabbed a tray, loading it up with food. When Rus arrived, he and Blue had, as per Edge’s suggestion, made breakfast. Well, Blue had done most of the work. Rus wasn’t a bad cook but….

(No. He was. He was terrible, and Blue had no idea how to tell him.)

There were pancakes being kept warm in the oven, and a fruit compote—Rus’ contribution, though Blue had monitored him carefully—cooling in the fridge. There was also yogurt and homemade granola. And two different varieties of muffin. The two skeletons had probably gone a little overboard but doing nothing wasn’t an option. They’d had a lot of time to kill, and their anxiety had been high.

Blue debated about adding a bottle of honey before finally compromising by drizzling honey over the yogurt and the pancakes. Using honey as a condiment was acceptable—drinking it, however, was unhealthy and Blue didn’t want to encourage the habit, even if it would make Papy feel better in the short term.

Blue glanced at the nest as he passed, smiling when he saw that Edge had pretty much buried himself in blankets—stars, he was cute like that!—and both Papyrus-es were tucked up against Red, with either an arm wrapped around him or a soothing hand stroking his skull. Good. They were all settled, and aside from the wounds on his ilium, Edge was properly bandaged and seen to. He still needed to replenish his magic, but for now, Blue would rather let him rest than try to coax some food into him.

He continued up the stairs, then balanced the tray carefully on his hip as he knocked on Papy’s door. There was no response. Blue narrowed his sockets. Papy couldn’t still be in the bathroom, could he? Or maybe he’d teleported around back to have a smoke? Blue had accidentally stolen his lighter, but Papy had plenty more. Shrugging, Blue pushed open the door, figuring he’d set the food down before he went looking for his brother.

He stopped short. Papy was tucked in the corner of his room, between the wall and his desk. He had his arms crossed in front of his skull and his legs drawn up against his chest. Blue’s soul immediately dropped, but he maintained his outward calm. His brother wouldn’t respond well to being fussed over. Instead, Blue silently shut the door and walked across the room. He set the tray of food on the desk, before coming to kneel in front of Papy.

“Brother?” he asked quietly, “Can you hear me?”

He jolted, and for a moment, there was terror in his eyelights and his form even flickered a little bit as he aborted the shortcut. “s-sans?” he asked, then forced himself to grin. As if Blue didn’t realize he was curled in the fetal position in the corner of his room. “how’s the edgelord? the stubborn jerk was suppressing his pain the entire time. you believe that?”

Papy really had no right to criticize other people for suppressing their pain. “Brother,” Blue said gently, taking his hand. “Do you want to come out of there? Or would you like to eat here? I brought you some food.”

“i—“ The other skeleton looked away, and Blue realized that he was shaking. “can i stay here?” he asked, and it hurt to hear his older brother sound so small and afraid.

“Whatever you want, brother.” Blue stood to retrieve the tray. He set it down, and Papy glanced at it, then—to Blue’s surprise—he shuddered and looked away.

“can you…get rid of the muffins, bro? i. i don’t think i can handle baked goods right now.”

“Of course.” He grabbed the muffins and set them on top of the desk, out of sight. It was a weird request, but Blue didn’t have to understand it to respect it. With the muffins gone, Papy leaned forward, showing a little more interest.

Blue watched him, noting that he had put on a pair of sweatpants rather than his typical khaki shorts. He was wearing his favorite hoodie—day-glow orange with a black silhouette of a ribcage and spine printed on it, a big red heart behind the ribs—though he had the hood up, which was unusual. It looked like he was wearing a turtleneck underneath as well, though he usually favored a simple undershirt.

His outfit made it impossible to tell if he was injured. So, as he stirred the granola into the yogurt, Blue asked, “Are you hurt anywhere, brother?”

Papy’s hand immediately went to his sternum, high up, where it met his collarbone. “no,” he said, even as the move revealed the lie. Blue withheld a sigh. Honestly. Was this a Papyrus thing? Would Rus act like this if he was hurt?

“Papy,” he said gently, “You’d tell me if you needed anything, right?”

“ ‘course, bro,” he said, rolling one of the pancakes up. He then stuffed it into his mouth all at once. Blue would normally chastise him for that, but if Edge got a free pass for his gutter-talk, then Papy got a free pass on his messy eating habits.

“Good,” Blue said, “So, what do you need?”

Papy froze, looking at him with wide sockets and too-bright eyelights. “i.” He looked around himself, fiddling with the spoon sticking out of his yogurt cup. “can i have my lighter back?”

Blue produced it from his inventory and passed it over. “What else?” Papy didn’t appear to hear him. He flicked the lighter on and passed his fingers through the flame, too fast to hurt himself but it still made Blue’s soul clench nervously. Gently, he folded a hand over his brother’s, preventing him from doing that again. “Brother,” he said quietly, “you can talk to me. You could tell me anything, and I would love you just the same.”

The taller skeleton was shaking more violently now. He squeezed his sockets shut and shook his head. “nah, bro. i’m. i’m okay. you should be more worried about the edgelord. he, uh, he—“

Blue caught his brother’s skull between his hands. “Brother. Papy. _Papyrus_. I’m here for you. Please, tell me what you need.” Papy looked at him, his breath coming short and hard. Not quite hyperventilating but getting close to it. “It’s okay, Papyrus. I’m here. I’m here for you. I’ve got you.” He started projecting /CARE/SAFETY/WARMTH/AFFECTION/LOVE/, and Papy broke.

Long arms caught Blue up in a tight hug, and he pressed his skull into Blue’s shoulder, sobbing. Blue pulled him in, holding him tight enough he was afraid he’d crack a bone. Papy just wept, and Blue continued to project and murmur soothingly against his elder brother’s acoustic meatus.

It felt like so little. Blue knew his brother was hurting, and as with Edge’s injuries, he knew that he couldn’t provide an instant fix. There was no magic to take away the pain, no way to even bandage the emotional and mental wounds his brother had suffered in Underfell. And knowing Papy, Blue would probably never know, exactly, what had been done, what he had seen and suffered.

All he could do was be there for his brother, with love and patience and care. It was all he had to offer, and though it didn't seem like much, he had to hope that it would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting to have a Blue POV chapter, but honestly, Edge is too out of it right now, and I am not brave enough to tackle Paps' mindset in this chapter. Hopefully, I haven't ruined Blue's mystique by slipping inside his head--I know he's been a bit of a favorite so far.
> 
> Also, while this is primarily a spicy-honey fic, the edgeberry tag is there for a reason. (Mostly it's because the author can't control herself. That's the reason.)
> 
> Let me know if you guys enjoyed. It was kind of bitter-sweet, I know, but hopefully more sweet than bitter.


	19. Two steps forward....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paps has regrets, and Edge is the worst patient ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for unhealthy coping mechanisms. Again. Also, non-explicit reminders of what happened to Paps in CH. 16. Nothing too upsetting, though.

It took what seemed like an embarrassingly long time for his tears to run dry. Blue held him the entire time, murmuring soothingly but saying nothing of any real significance. It grounded him, though, reminded him of where he was and who he was with. Finally, he ran out of tears and his sobbing started to subside. Blue still held him, one hand on his back, rubbing soothingly, and the other on the back of his skull. /WARMTH/AFFECTION/SAFETY/CARE/LOVE/ surrounded him, and…he felt better.

Not one hundred percent. Not a five. But…he was probably a solid three, now. Which was, honestly, better than he thought he’d be. Better than he thought he could be. It felt like Madjick had taken something from him when he’d…. Paps leaned forward, pressing himself into Blue. He felt hollow, which was admittedly better than the internal screaming he’d been doing before. He’d take hollow over that any day.

Exhaling, he pulled away just enough so that he could spin Blue around and pull him back into his embrace, so they were sitting back to chest. He sighed, setting his chin on Blue’s shoulder and eyeing the tray of food. It was weird. He couldn’t decide if he was starving or if the very idea of food made him nauseous.

Holding Blue against him felt good, though. He’d felt so isolated and alone when Madjick had…. He squeezed the smaller skeleton tighter. Having someone close, knowing that he wasn’t alone…that made him feel better. His soul swelled under Blue’s projections, growing warm as the idea that he was _safe_ and _loved_ sank in. Okay. He could. This was. Okay. He was cracked, but he wasn’t broken. He was okay. He’d be okay. This was okay.

He ignored the fact that, in the past, he’d have been purring by now.

They just sat like that for a while, until Paps started to grow self-conscious. Sure, _he_ might be content to stay like this all day, but Blue surely had things that he’d like to do. Besides, they still had ‘guests’ downstairs—

His soul jolted, and panic briefly paralyzed him. Edge. Edge and Red. They _lived_ in that hellhole. If he’d wanted to keep them in Underswap before, he was absolutely determined to do so now. “bro,” he said quietly, interrupting Blue’s soothing murmuring, “we can’t let them go back there. they can’t continue to live there. we can’t let them. they can live here with us or with rus and sans but they can’t go back to that, that—“

He took a hitching breath, realizing that he was babbling. Blue’s small hands covered his, stroking his metacarpals soothingly. He pulled Blue in even closer, hunching protectively over his little brother. Quietly, even more so than usual, he said, “they can’t go back there.” His voice broke midway through.

“Papy,” Blue said, “it’s okay. It’ll be okay. We’ll talk to them, alright? It’s fine. We can invite them to stay here with us. Everything will be fine.”

Suddenly, he was crying again. “ _no!_ ” he said, “you don’t understand— _we can’t let them go back there_. it’s—underfell is—“ He whined, unable to find the words. Blue tried to hush him, squeezing his hands and increasing the potency of his projections, but Paps was spiraling into panic again. “how do they stand it? how do they—? i’d go crazy. i’d—i’d—“

Suddenly, he thought of Slim. Who barely spoke. Who kept his sockets down and his eyelights dim and never seemed to meet anyone’s gaze. Who allowed his brother to call him ‘dog’ and displayed all the well-trained obedience of one. Slim. His shattered reflection.

_oh._

He took a shuddering breath. Alright. Maybe he was a two and not a three. He collapsed against Blue, who tried to spin around to better embrace his brother, but Paps’ grip was too tight. Blue finally gave up and just turned his head to speak soothingly against the side of Paps’ skull, one hand reaching back awkwardly to pet the back of his head and along his cervical vertebrae.

Paps was suddenly very glad for the thickness of the turtleneck he’d put on. He didn’t want Blue to find the collar, still around Paps’ neck. He hadn’t been able to convince himself to take it off. He couldn’t explain it, but it made him feel safe and protected. The collar…and the faint sting of Edge’s bite, infused with the other skeleton’s magic and sitting so close to his soul. Part of him realized that this probably wasn’t healthy, but he would cling to anything near at hand that made him feel even the slightest bit more secure.

He understood, now, why Red had panicked when Edge removed his collar.

Slowly, slowly, Paps started to calm down again—Blue talking him through the panic attack all the while. Blue was the best. He didn’t deserve this. He shouldn’t have to deal with this. Paps should be strong enough to stand on his own. He shouldn’t need his little brother’s help for something as basic as just _existing_. Blue was his younger brother. Paps should be the one to comfort him, to help him. Blue shouldn’t—

“Papyrus!” Blue said, breaking through Paps’ spiral. “Brother, I need you to listen to me, alright?” Paps nodded, skull still resting on Blue’s shoulder. “I love you. I love you, and I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Just like you’re here for me, when I need you. There is no place I would rather be than right here, with you, and nothing I would rather be doing that looking after you.” Paps squeezed him tightly, not really believing him but wanting to so badly. He must have spoken some of his thoughts out loud. “Papy, what can I do to convince you?”

“i believe you, bro—“

“Don’t lie,” Blue said, voice small, “I can see that you don’t believe me, so tell me how I can convince you. Tell me what you need me to do. Tell me how I can help.”

He swallowed. “help me get edge and red to stay here. or in undertale. i don’t care where, just so long as they never have to go back to underfell again.”

Blue was quiet for a little while, thinking. “I’ll help,” he said, “but I’ve got a question for you, and you have to be honest with me, okay? Can you do that?”

“yeah.”

“Do you promise?”

Paps tensed briefly. He hated making promises, but this one he thought he could do. “i promise i’ll answer your question honestly,” he replied, choosing his words carefully.

“How do you feel about Edge?”

_(“I won’t help until I know that Edge and Red are_ both _safe here.”)_

Paps flinched. He deserved that. Just yesterday, he and the edgelord had been at each others’ throats. He’d literally kicked the injured skeleton while he was down. Before that, on the edgelord’s first night in their home, Edge had been desperate and vulnerable—and probably scared as well, even if he would never admit to it—and Paps hadn’t been able to summon up even a modicum of compassion or patience. The best that could be said for him was that he hadn’t taken advantage when Edge had dropped to his knees and offered his body as payment for Paps’ protection. Because that’s what he knew. Because that’s how things were done in Underfell.

_(Leaving Edge alone with Muffet. Knowing what was going to happen. Knowing that neither of them had any other, better options.)_

What had Paps done? Rather than try to calm the Fell monster, he’d called him garbage. Rather than try to convince Edge that kindness sometimes came without cost, he’d named a price he considered trivial. Something that would annoy the edgelord, maybe even hurt him—just a little, not too much—but was, ultimately, inconsequential. Never realizing the full extent of what he was doing or asking.

_(Muffet’s hands on Edge’s ilium. Like they belonged there. Like she_ owned _him. Edge taking it, unflinching and unaffected. Like it didn’t bother him. Seeing behind the mask he maintained to the stark terror it concealed.)_

Regret swamped him. If he could go back and change what he had done, how he’d acted, Paps would do it in an instant.

“i.” Paps’ throat closed up. He cleared it and swallowed. Took a breath. “i don’t really know, bro. i’m…it’s confusing. but…i definitely want to keep him safe. i want to protect him—from himself, if necessary, since the stubborn bastard doesn’t seem to have any sense of self-preservation. i want to see him actually smile. like, a real, full smile. not the almost-smile thing he usually does. and. and i want to hear him laugh—no, i want to be the one to make him laugh. i want to see him relaxed, for once, and…i want to hear him purr.” He swallowed, realizing that he’d been maybe a little more honest than he’d actually intended. “and i want to be one of the reasons that he’s safe and happy. that’s. that’s how i feel about him. does that…make sense?”

Blue giggled. “It sounds like you like him, Papy~.”

“phff. i don’t like him; he’s an asshole. but. i mean.” He paused, then replayed everything that he’d said. “okay, fine. i might like him—not like _that_ —but he’s still an asshole.”

Blue just giggled again, squirming happily in Paps’ lap: so pleased, he didn’t even chastise Paps for his language. “Okay, brother. I’ll help you,” he said, completely unreservedly this time. “But first—do you think you’re ready to come downstairs? There’s something I think you may want to see.”

He thought about that. “what is it?”

“You’ll like it~. I promise.”

Paps wasn’t sure if he really was ready to go downstairs yet, but he didn’t really want to stay up here anymore either. (Honestly, the only thing he really wanted to do what get really, really drunk, and sleep for roughly a hundred years, until his body stopped telling him that there was still…on his ribcage. Until he stopped feeling the Knight Knight’s hands on his wrists and ankles. Until the feelings of helplessness faded. Blue probably wouldn’t go for that, though. Besides, he was serious about convincing the Fell-verse brothers to stay, and he wouldn’t be able to manage that if he was drunk or sleeping.)

“okay,” he said, aware that his voice was strained and small, revealing his anxiety. He gave Blue one last squeeze and took a breath, then released him. The smaller skeleton stood and turned to survey him briefly.

“Wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Blue waited for Paps’ nod before he darted out of the room. As soon as Blue was gone, Paps pressed his thumb into the bite mark on his collarbone and sternum. It hurt, of course, but the pain was good. It meant that he was wanted, that he was safe and someone was looking out for him.

_stars, i’m fucked up_.

He tried to convince himself to stop, but he just pressed in deeper. Since when had he cared about using healthy coping mechanisms to deal with his problems? Blue would just be pleased that he wasn’t guzzling honey or chain-smoking. (He really wanted a cigarette. Really. Really, _really_ wanted a cigarette, but Blue didn’t want him to smoke in the house, and he couldn’t bring himself to go outside. No amount of reminding himself that this was Underswap could convince him that he was safe going out alone.)

The door opened, and he jerked his hand away, hoping Blue hadn’t noticed. Paps didn’t think he had. He just bounded over and held up a damp washcloth. “Can I wash your face, Papy?” He blinked, suddenly aware of the crusted magic tracking down his cheekbones. He nodded, eyelights down as shame swept through him. Blue just smiled brightly and wiped the dried tears away. “There,” he said gently, “All better.”

The proclamation made him want to start laughing. Or crying. He couldn’t decide. So he settled on a weak smile. “thanks, bro. guess i was kind of a mess, huh?”

“That’s okay, Papy. You were upset. You’re allowed to be upset,” Blue said quietly, “and I hope, next time, you’ll be comfortable enough to tell me instead of trying to hide it. It’s not healthy to keep everything bottled up.”

That startled a semi-hysterical laugh out of him, the sound too high-pitched and too loud. He slapped a hand over his mouth, trying to keep it in. Blue put a hand on his shoulder, supporting him as he forced himself to just. Breathe. He didn’t spiral down this time. He managed to keep control of himself, and a wash of gratitude replaced the hysteria. Grinning up at Blue—who was looking at him worriedly, eyelights searching—he said, “yeah. i was pretty shook up, but i’m just glad i’m a skeleton monster and not a bird monster.”

Blue’s brow-bones furrowed, and he cocked his head. “A bird monster? Why would you be—?” He stopped, recognizing the expression on Paps’ face. “Papy, no.”

“better to have your bones rattled than your feathers ruffled, right?”

Blue looked pained. “Papy, please.” There was a smile buried behind his aggrieved expression, though. Paps could see it, and it warmed him, at least a little. This felt normal, and he desperately wanted to feel normal.

“too bad i’m not a dog monster, though. then i could just shed my troubles.”

“Brother—“

“guess i should be grateful i’m not a hot cat; then something could really be eating me.”

Small skeletal hands covered his mouth, and he pulled away, laughing—really, truly laughing. “No more puns!” Blue proclaimed, trying to cover his own laughter with anger. “Enough!” Paps caught him up in a hug, this time not desperate or frightened, just…brotherly. Sure, he still felt kind of fragile, and behind the laughter, he could sense the emptiness waiting so swallow him…but for the moment, he was okay.

“relax, bro. you should be more like a duck, and let things just roll—“

“Argh!” And suddenly, Blue hefted him up and onto his shoulders, yelling, “We’re going downstairs, now—and you’re going to cease your infernal punning!”

“c’mon, blue. infernal? i think they’re heavenly.”

That earned him another incoherent, aggravated cry. Then, suddenly, Blue stopped dead in front of the door and said, “Okay, brother, really—I need you to be quiet.”

“okay?” he said, a little confused. He couldn’t think of a reason Blue would need him to keep quiet, but he could recognize when his younger brother was being serious, and he was definitely being serious right now. “i, uh, think i can do that.”

“Good,” Blue said, opening the door. He set Paps down and led the way out onto the landing, a phalange to his mouth in the multi-universal sign for silence. Paps eyed him with a raised brow-bone, then shrugged and slumped into his comfortable slouch before following Blue. The smaller skeleton pressed himself against the railing and looked down, grinning madly. Paps joined him. His sockets went wide, then he broke into a huge grin.

He hadn’t bothered to come in through the front door when he’d brought the edgelord back—he’d just teleported directly to the bathroom, urgently needing a shower. And though he’d brought Red directly to the living room, he’d been a little distracted and hadn’t noticed that Blue and Rus had created one of Blue’s nests. Honestly, he was a little surprised they’d gone the ‘nest’ route and not the pillow-fort route. Blue and Rus tended to go a little…overboard, sometimes. Particularly when they were left alone with nothing to do. He’d never forget the day he came home to a pillow-fort that spanned the entire living room, complete with a ‘dungeon’ and ‘watch-tower’. And traps. Because of course there were traps.

They’d probably settled on a nest rather than a fort for the sake of the two Fell-verse monsters currently resting there, pouring their anxiety into cooking rather than pillow architecture. Rus sat with his back to the couch, a book on advanced puzzle-making in one hand and the other resting on Red’s skull, fingers stroking over his coronal suture. Red was very nearly curled in Rus’ lap, purring loud enough that Paps could hear it from upstairs. Then again, he could feel the warm intent Rus was putting out, so potent it was nearly overwhelming. Edge’s front was flush with Red’s back, one arm pillowing his skull and the other wrapped over his brother’s ribcage. He’d captured one of Red’s hands in his own, and for once, he looked content.

It was, in a word, adorable.

Paps rubbed the top of Blue’s skull affectionately. His brother knew he had a weakness for ‘adorable’. There was a reason most of Blue’s clothing was so cute—Paps was the one to gather the materials and the one to either alter or create their clothing wholesale. Every once in a while, Blue would complain about a particularly cutesy outfit, but Paps had his own puppy-dog eyelights he could employ that usually convinced the smaller skeleton to wear it at least once. Besides, if Blue really didn’t like it, then he wouldn’t wear it. Blue had a stubborn streak almost as wide as the edgelord’s.

The thought reminded him of the circumstances that had brought Edge to this point. Sadness gripped him, as he realized that Edge would never allow himself to be so relaxed or unguarded if he was operating at full capacity. “how’s he doing?” Paps asked under his breath. Aside from his arm and head, Edge was otherwise pretty securely wrapped in blankets, obscuring the rest of his body from view.

Blue’s perma-smile went weak and brittle. “Better,” he said, optimistically, “but, um, still not all that great?” He hugged himself and said, so softly he sounded a lot like Sans, “he needs to eat, brother. his magic reserves are…. i don’t think he can even keep his eyelights lit.”

Paps pulled Blue into his side, rubbing his shoulder. Even before their trip through Underfell, Paps had known that Edge had some food issues—the incidents with the breakfast burritos and the oatmeal had made that clear enough—but after, he had to guess that Edge’s issues with food ran a little deeper than he’d previously suspected. This probably wasn’t going to be easy. “well, if anyone can convince him to eat something, bro, it’s you. you are the magnificent sans, after all.”

“you’ll help me?” Blue asked, still speaking softly.

“ ‘course i will,” he replied, aware that not so long ago, his answer would have been a firm ‘of course not’.

Blue’s smile lost some of its fragility and solidified. “even edge can’t stand against the both of us! mweh heh heh!” Paps had to bite a finger to hold in his own laughter, wondering how in the world his brother managed to laugh both quietly and enthusiastically. It must be a gift. Then Blue was darting down the stairs—still moving with the kind of quiet most people that knew him probably wouldn’t think he was capable of. Grinning, Paps followed him down, shaking his head.

And promptly stepped on the third stair down, causing it to creak.

Edge sat up immediately, positioning himself so he was protectively hunched over his brother and growling. Rus, meanwhile, marked his page and set the book aside, sighing. “EDGY-ME,” he said, tiredly but patiently, “IT’S JUST BLUE AND LAZY-ME. PLEASE LIE BACK DOWN.”

Though Edge didn’t lie down again, he did relax out of his protective posture, gaze immediately settling on Paps. “What’s yer number, Swapshit?” he asked, managing to surprise Paps.

Sockets wide and a little embarrassed, he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “we’re not in underfell anymore, edge. you don’t need to worry about me—i mean, geeze, i’m more worried about you at the moment.” It was true. His soul had gone tight and cold as soon as the blankets fell away, revealing Edge’s ribcage. The healing matrix was nearly eaten away to nothing. Edge needed to replenish his magic stores. Sleep would help, but what he really needed was food.

“Yer number,” he prompted persistently, gaze steady even though he was visibly shivering.

“fucking stars,” Paps muttered under his breath, a little surprised when no one chastised him for it. He swept down the stairs and, grabbing a blanket, wrapped it around Edge’s torso. “two,” he said, kneeling in front of the edgelord, “happy? now what’s your number, you stubborn jack—donkey?” He censored himself at the last minute, not wanting to test Rus’ and Blue’s patience.

To his shock, Edge leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Paps’ shoulder, one arm thrown over the back of his neck. “ ‘m sorry,” Edge murmured, “S’posed ta protect ya. Fucked up.”

Paps froze, looking first at Rus and then at Blue, who had walked over so he could monitor the situation. “did you guys drug him? please tell me you didn’t drug him.” The two sweet-natured skeletons looked appalled at the very suggestion.

“ ‘m apologizing, ya jackass,” Edge said, sounding a little more like himself, at least. Even if he was speaking with a thick accent.

“right. well. uh, thank you? apology accepted…i guess. so, what’s your number, huh?”

Edge seemed to think about that for a moment. Then he said, “Four.”

Paps blinked. “edge. how. the _fuck_. are you a four?”

The other skeleton just shrugged, still leaning against Paps. “Sans ‘s safe,” he said, one hand gesturing to Red, “ ‘n yer safe, ‘n I’m safe too. four.” He huffed. “ ‘sides, the creampuff’s been projectin’ like that fer the last hour. ‘m a little hazy. ‘n pain-drunk. My ribs hurt. ‘s why ‘m not a five.”

Paps rubbed at the side of his face. _stars on fire_ …. Not drugged, then, but definitely not quite in his right mind. Also, he would have to work on raising the edgelord’s standards of living. “alright, then. do you think you can eat something? your ribcage is looking a little fragile there.”

Edge grumbled something under his breath, hitching the blanket closer. His claws briefly dug into Paps’ shoulder, but he opened his hand almost immediately. “Have ta,” he said, tiredly, “er ‘m gonna start fallin’ apart. Lit’rally.” Paps raised a hand, thinking of putting it on Edge’s shoulder, but he hesitated, not sure if Edge would find that comforting or not. He put his hand down.

Blue cleared his throat and asked, “What would you like, Edge? Do you have a favorite food? Something you like to eat?”

“Whatever ya have is fine. ‘m not picky.” Which Paps took to mean that he wasn’t particularly selective because everything was equally unappealing. He lifted his hand again, wanting to pull Edge in, but still not sure.

“I’ll go make you a plate then,” Blue said. He hesitated. “Um, we made muffins. Would you like one, or would that be upsetting?”

Edge lifted his head and looked at Blue, head cocked. “Why would muffins be upsetting?”

Blue made a very valiant effort not to look at Paps. He mostly succeeded. “I…don’t know. Um. I’ll, uh, go get food.”

Edge, however, must have put two and two together, despite his diminished capacity. He eyed Paps. “Don’ let ‘er have that kind ‘a power over ya, Swapshit.”

“don’t—?” Paps asked, brow-bones raised. “look, pal, i don’t really think you’ve got much room to criticize.”

Edge leaned forward again. Paps was starting to feel less like he was being embraced and more like he was serving as the edgelord’s support. That didn’t bother him, though. Far from it. His soul warmed and that possessive/protective side of him was soothed. He lifted his hand again, but still he hesitated. “Not criticizing,” Edge mumbled, “Advising. ‘ve got experience on the matter.” He chuckled hoarsely, even though that really wasn’t funny.

That was too much for Paps. “hey, edgelord? can i, uh, can i touch you?”

“The fuck ‘r ya askin’ fer?” Edge asked, “Our deal stands, right?”

Paps froze, feeling his soul go cold. “look,” he said gently, “edge. about that—“

He was not prepared to have Edge grab him by the collar of his shirt and yank him forward until they were socket to socket. Edge’s eyelights were out, but his anger was palpable. “Ya don’ get ta change the terms half-way through, Swapshit. Tha’s not how this works,” he snarled.

Stars, this was not what he intended. “edge, listen, i just—“

“No,” he hissed, and it looked like he had more to say, but Rus scooped him up and brought him into a gentle hold. His projections kicked up, and Paps went limp, basking in the /SECURITY/CARE/STABILITY/STRENGTH/LOVE/. Edge was made of sterner stuff, apparently. He pulled against Rus’ hold, hissing, “No! Fuck, Rus, leggo!”

“EASY, EDGY-ME. SHHH. CALM DOWN. EVERYTHING’S FINE. YOU’RE FINE.” Rus purred quietly and held the Fell monster against his chest, though he seemed to deliberately keep the blanket between them, so Rus never came in direct contact with Edge. Paps wondered if that was for Rus’ protection or Edge’s comfort. Or maybe both. “I’LL LET YOU GO WHEN YOU CALM DOWN, BUT YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN. I’M SORRY, EDGY-ME, BUT I CAN’T LET YOU HURT YOURSELF. SO, SHHH. YOU’RE FINE. LOOK. EVERYTHING’S FINE. RED’S RIGHT HERE, AND HE’S SAFE AND WARM. DO YOU HEAR HIM PURRING? THAT’S RIGHT, EDGY-ME. NO NEED TO FIGHT SO HARD. YOU CAN REST. WE’LL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING.”

Edge was too worn out to keep struggling for very long. He sagged in Rus’ hold and muttered, “I hate you.”

Rus flinched. “THAT’S OKAY,” he said, even though it clearly wasn’t. “I’M STILL NOT GOING TO LET YOU HURT YOURSELF. NOW, IF I LET YOU GO, ARE YOU GOING TO LIE DOWN?”

“Fuck you,” he said, but there wasn’t any strength in his voice. Carefully, Rus wrapped him in the blanket and set him down on Rus’ other side, so that he could see Red, but he wasn’t close to Paps. Edge made a weak attempt to get up, but Rus held his shoulder, not letting him go. The scarred skeleton huffed and sank into the nest, though he didn’t relax.

“THERE YOU GO, EDGY-ME. JUST REST. YOU’RE FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE.” Rus turned away from Edge to look to the kitchen doorway, where Blue was watching. “I THINK WE’LL HAVE TO WAIT A LITTLE BIT LONGER BEFORE HE’S READY TO EAT,” Rus said, “BUT MAYBE HOT CHOCOLATE WOULD BE APPROPRIATE?” He turned to Paps and said, pointedly, “PERHAPS YOU SHOULD HELP BLUE IN THE KITCHEN.”

Paps swallowed and nodded, not able to meet Rus’ sockets. “yeah. i, uh, i guess you’re right.” He stood on wobbly legs, still affected by Rus’ projections, and trudged into the kitchen. Rather than help Blue, though, he sat heavily at the kitchen table and put his skull in his hands, overwhelmed and upset.

Blue sat down beside him. “Brother?” he began, “What did Edge mean? What deal?”

Paps’ skull dropped onto the table, and he covered his head with his arms. “i…i messed up,” he confessed quietly. He took a hitching breath. “after red brought him here, when he first woke up? you remember that night?”

“Yes. Why? What happened?”

Haltingly, Paps told Blue what he’d done. He didn’t mention that Edge had, initially, assumed Paps wanted to be repaid sexually, but he did reveal the hateful things he’d said to Edge. How he’d reacted with spite and petty hatred rather than compassion and kindness. He even mentioned that he’d included Blue in the deal too, without his knowledge. Then, after he’d detailed the whole story, he waited patiently for Blue’s condemnation, for his disappointment. “i’m so sorry, bro,” he said softly, “i messed up. i messed up _bad,_ and i don’t know how to fix it.”

“But you do want to fix it?” Blue asked carefully.

Without looking up, Paps said, “of course. i just don’t know _how_.”

“That’s okay, brother. We’ll figure it out.” Paps slowly lifted his head, meeting Blue’s sockets. There was sadness in his gaze and, yes, a trace of disappointment, but more than that, there was compassion in his eyelights. Forgiveness. While Blue couldn’t approve of what he’d done—at all—and probably couldn’t understand it, he was going to help him fix it.

Paps felt warmth suffuse his soul. If anyone could do it…. “bro?”

“What is it?” Blue asked, allowing Paps to take his hand.

“you’re the best.”

“I know,” he replied, “Mweh heh heh!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, guys. Puns are hard.


	20. Breakfast fondue. Or something.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge cannot understand Tale-verse monsters, and Sans is terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for disordered eating.

Edge fought against the haze of Rus’ projections, the burn of his broken ribs, and the drowsiness of his depleted magic stores. Thinking was. Just. So. Hard. Emotion was easier, but still confusing. There was anger and betrayal, outrage and panic thrumming through his soul, burning too hot and bright to be buried by even Rus’ continued efforts to calm him.

Paps wanted to change the deal. ~~Of course he did. Edge should have known he would as soon as the flirting started. Nothing was innocent. Not even in a Tale verse.~~

Fell-verse monsters weren’t known for their virtues, but their word had value beyond what a Tale monster might expect. Because everyone needed help sometimes, and if a monster developed a reputation for reneging on their deals, then they couldn’t be trusted to bargain with. A Fell monster could not be trusted, exactly, but they knew to keep their word or face the consequences. ~~Paps was a Tale monster. He had no incentive to uphold his end of the bargain. Edge should not have trusted him. He should have known better by now. How many times did he need to have this lesson beaten into him before it took root?~~

But where did Edge get off feeling betrayed? Paps had made it abundantly clear—from their first meeting—that he hated his counterpart. Now that he had all the power, now that he knew all the weak points that Edge took such pains to hide, why wouldn’t he take advantage? What had Edge been expecting? ~~Tale monsters were supposed to be better than their Fell counterparts. Paps was supposed to be better than Edge and Slim. He was supposed to shine with the sweetness of the Tale verses. In fact, he _did_ , but Edge of all people should have recognized that sugar could conceal the bitterness of poison.~~

He had been naïve. Naïve and foolish. Yes, he had much in common with Rus and Blue—the good and the bad. He should have known better. He _did_ know better, but…. Paps wore his collar—did he still? Edge thought he’d felt something beneath the turtleneck—and bore his mark. No matter how he tried to tell himself that those had been calculated moves, intended to protect the other monster in Underfell, he could not deny that he’d become…protective of Paps in that short amount of time. And that protectiveness had blinded him.

Which only made the betrayal cut deeper. ~~But he deserved this, didn’t he? What was the first thing he’d done when Paps had come with him to Underfell? He’d ordered the other skeleton to his knees, and no matter how he tried to justify it to himself as a ‘test’, he knew in his soul that it was a kind of petty revenge. He’d been rough with the Tale monster, had slapped him, had thrown him against a wall, had _bitten and marked him without his permission_ —did it matter that his harshness was necessary to keep them both alive? Would a Tale monster even understand that? Worst of all, he’d failed to shield the other skeleton from the harshest of his universe’s realities. Was it any wonder that Paps wanted to get back at him somehow? Why was he even fighting this? He deserved whatever his alternate chose to dish out. He should just. Lie down. And take it.~~

But that wasn’t in his nature. When he was at his lowest, when he felt closest to defeat, that’s when Edge fought hardest. _(“There is no sweetness in this world. The outcome is the same either way, so it’s better to go down fighting.”)_

So he struggled to push back the influence of Rus’ projections. He fought to break free of the haze caused by his low magic stores. He pushed himself to overcome the pain in his ribs and his spine and ilium ~~and the shame that clutched at his soul, insisting that _he should have seen this coming, that he was naïve and foolish for thinking otherwise, that he was worthless, spiteful, and cruel and he_ deserved _nothing better_~~. Whatever Paps had in store for him, he was going to face it head-on. If the other skeleton thought he’d just roll over and beg or—or _whatever it was he wanted_ , then he had another thing coming. Oh, Edge knew full well there was a debt to pay, and he would pay it. But he’d make it just as unpleasant as possible for Paps to exact his price.

“EDGY-ME,” Rus said, “STOP FIGHTING. PLEASE. YOU’RE GOING TO HURT YOURSELF. WILL YOU PLEASE RELAX?”

“Fuck off, creampuff,” he snarled, still aware of Rus’ hand on his shoulder and the intent beating on him. A monster had to be receptive for such projections to have any effect, so Edge shouldn’t have been affected. He should have been able to shake it off easily. But there was at least a small part of him that wanted the comfort being offered to him. ~~Since when did it matter what he _wanted_?~~ Nevertheless, he fought off the effects of Rus’ projections and his own desires.

He had to concede that Rus had a point, though. He conducted a mental survey, forcing himself to accept his own body’s limitations. His magic was spread thin—far too thin—and needed to be replenished. If he was going to be able to eat, he needed to be calm. ~~Then he could keep fighting. Then he could lash back at Swapshit and prove that he _didn’t_ have all the cards, that no matter how it looked, Edge wasn’t weak or helpless. ~~ Sighing, he stilled under Rus’ hand and said, “Look, creampuff. I mean it. Turn off yer projections. I’ll play nice, if ya let up a little. If not….” Rus immediately stopped projecting, and Edge’s head cleared a little bit. “Thank you,” he said pointedly.

Mindful of his injuries, Edge managed to draw himself up, though Rus whined quietly. Skeletal hands caught his elbows and supported him as he carefully twisted himself into a sitting position. He glared at Rus, though given the sudden wave of exhaustion that overtook him, he’d probably needed the support. “I don’ need ta be _coddled_ ,” he hissed, pulling a blanket around his shoulders and another across his hips to shield his injuries from view. He’d seen the sweeter skeletons’ expressions go brittle when they’d seen the scope—and location—of his wounds. He had no desire to upset them further.

Besides, even if ‘swaddled in bedding’ was not a particularly intimidating look, the blankets at least hid the fact that he was halfway to dust.

Leaning against the back of the couch, Edge allowed his sockets to drift shut, his limbs feeling oddly heavy. Rus’ made a strange sound—a little like a thrilled squeak—when Edge pressed against his side for support. “Don’ get excited. ‘m pretending yer a wall.” His snarl trailed off into a mumble as he spoke. Just a quick rest. That’s all he needed. Then he’d go back to being angry with Swapshit.

“THAT’S OKAY, EDGY-ME. IF I WERE A WALL, I’D BE INCREDIBLY SUPPORTIVE.” …did that count as a pun? Edge didn’t really know or care, honestly. He sighed quietly as Rus continued to expound on his would-be virtues as a wall. “—AND I’D HAVE A MURAL PAINTED ON MY FACE. WHAT DO YOU THINK, EDGY-ME? I’VE ALWAYS LIKED THE CLASSIC FRESCOS, BUT THE MODERN STREET-ART AESTHETIC IS ALSO APPEALING. WHICH WOULD BE MORE APPROPRIATE, DO YOU THINK?”

“I think yer being ridiculous,” he mumbled, head on Rus’ shoulder. Just resting his eyelights. Really.

“OF COURSE!” Rus exclaimed, “WHY CHOOSE WHEN YOU CAN HAVE BOTH?! NYEH HEH HEH!”

Edge didn’t respond, though he did try to pull himself back from the brink of sleep. He couldn’t be napping now. He wasn’t _Red_. He needed to—

Wait. He needed…? “rus, what was I doin’?” he asked, too tired to bother with proper capitalization.

“SLEEPING,” Rus said sagely.

“oh. okay.” He allowed himself to drift again. When Rus started projecting, though, Edge’s sockets cracked open and he growled, “Rus. What did I say?”

“…SORRY, EDGY-ME.”

Edge snorted and closed his sockets again. “If yer gonna lie…at least make it convincin’….” He drifted for a time, not quite sleeping but not fully awake either. He opened his sockets again when Blue came in from the kitchen, carrying a tray. Feeling detached, he watched as Blue set the tray on the dining room table then flounced away to retrieve…? Edge cocked his head, trying to make sense of the board Blue was carrying. Then the smaller skeleton laid it across his and Rus’ femurs, and he remembered.

“KITTENS IN FLOWER-POTS!? EDGY-ME, I KNEW YOU HAD GOOD TASTE~!”

“Why do ya think it was me that picked it out?” Edge asked, stirring.

“BLUE ALWAYS HAS HIS GUESTS PICK THE PUZZLE~!”

Edge glared at Blue, who just smiled sweetly. “We didn’t get to finish it yesterday,” Blue said brightly, “So I thought we might work on it today, now that the Great Papyrus is here to help us! Only if you’re feeling better, though, Edge.”

He roused himself. Right. He needed to eat and…the puzzle would help, he realized. Blinking, he sat up straighter, watching as Blue carried the tray over. He’d been expecting the hot chocolate, but he was surprised to see the variety of bowls on the tray. Each bowl contained a different foodstuff—muffins cut into bite-sized pieces, granola, pancake pieces cut small, as well as a bowl each of maple syrup, honey, whipped cream, and fruit compote. There were three forks and spoons on the tray and copious napkins. Even before Blue spoke, Edge understood the concept, and his soul warmed.

“I thought we could try something a little different,” Blue said, “It’s like—breakfast fondue. Kinda.” He speared a piece of pancake on his fork and dipped it into the honey before popping it into his mouth to demonstrate. “See?”

Yes. Yes, he did see, and if he were capable, he probably would have started crying with gratitude. He’d long ago found it was easier to eat if he was distracted by something else, and it was easier too if he was sharing with another person, particularly if they were eating off the same plate. ~~It was the only way to be sure everything was safe to eat~~. Sharing food like this…while staying occupied with a puzzle…. It was perfect. He couldn’t have come up with a better strategy himself.

“How—?” he started to ask, then he saw Blue share a look with Rus. Who was very studiously not looking at Red. Ah. He forced a sigh, though he was trying very hard not to smile. “Fer such a small monster, the runt sure has a big mouth.”

Then, so softly most of the monsters that knew him probably wouldn’t have thought him capable of it, Rus said, “he worries. that’s all.”

Ordinarily, he would have had a retort to that, but honestly, he was so grateful that he could only shake his head. “Whatever,” he said, sorting the puzzle pieces. Tentatively, he sipped the hot chocolate. Blue and Rus—stars bless them—weren’t looking at him, and instead, they started amicably chattering about a new anime they’d been watching. The hot chocolate was too sweet, tasting cloying and heavy— ~~there wasn’t anything wrong with the cocoa; there was something wrong with _him_ —~~but it melted into his soul smoothly and easily. Another wash of gratitude; tale-verse food was so much easier, even if it still wasn’t _easy_.

He focused on the puzzle and the other skeletons’ conversation, feeling himself relax bit by bit as he did so. Occasionally, if he hadn’t taken a bite in a while, Rus or Blue would gently prod him—“EDGY-ME, HAVE YOU TRIED THE MUFFINS?” or “Edge, do you like the granola? We made it fresh this morning!”—and he’d force himself to take another forkful. He took no enjoyment from their meal, though. Well, not from the _food_ at least—he was quite enjoying listening to the two Tale-verse monsters debate the merits of various love interests in the anime they were watching. Though he was surprised Paps and Sans allowed them to watch a ‘harem’ anime. Whatever that was. It didn’t sound like something the elders would approve of, not if the ‘harem’ was anything like Asgore’s.

Conversation aside, none of the food tasted good to him. The various ‘dips’ were too sweet. The muffins were too dry. The pancakes had an odd texture. There were moments when he’d take a bite and his soul would suddenly clench, threatening to lose the magic he’d managed to regain. He just had to breathe through it, focusing on the puzzle, the way the pieces fit together. Once, he grabbed Blue’s hand, and ran his thumb over each carpal and metacarpal, each phalange and joint until the nausea passed.

Blue and Rus never commented, never indicated that they were worried. They knew—it would be worse for him if they fussed. It would be worse if they called attention to it.

As the puzzle came together, magic siphoned away from his soul to fill in the gaps in the matrix covering his ribs. His mind cleared further, and he felt more like himself again. Annoyingly, though, that just served to make him more aware of the slight tremor in his bones. Had he really been shaking this entire time?

Yes. Yes he had.

Annoyed with himself and his weakness, he took an angry bite of muffin, forgoing any of the dips Blue had prepared. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just _eat_ like a normal fucking person? Why—

_(“Lesson time.” Focusing his magic to project directly into her soul. Allowing her to feel what it was like to go without eating for as long as possible. Showing her what it felt like to know the food could not be trusted. Forcing her to experience what it was to scrabble desperately for any kind of control over your life…only to realize you’d become a slave to your own neuroses.)_

—would he _ever_ inflict this on another person?

 _Stars above have mercy._ He pushed the tray away and turned his head, breathing hard and deep. Bless Blue, he grabbed the tray and set it out of view before crouching beside Edge, unable to conceal his concern. “Edge, what do you need?” He shifted the puzzle board away, trying to give Edge a little more space.

Edge shook his head, momentarily unable to speak. Even with his sockets shut, he could sense Rus and Blue exchanging a look. Feeling helpless and unsure and upset. _Fuck_. “It’s fine, pipsqueak,” he managed to say between deep breaths. His voice was strained and unsteady, though. “You did…you did good. I just…I’m not hungry anymore.” The lie was almost painful. The terrible thing was…he was hungry. He could feel his soul crying out for magic, even as it threatened to expel the bit he’d managed to gather.

At least he was coherent enough to speak properly again. That was a bright spot.

Tentatively, the sweeter skeletons began projecting /SECURITY/CARE/STABILITY/LOVE/SAFETY/ as well as /WARMTH/SAFETY/LOVE/AFFECTION/CARE/.

“IS THIS OKAY, EDGY-ME?”

Edge nodded, allowing himself to drink in the affection and safety being broadcast. First Blue, then Rus held out their hands, just allowing them to hover in his field of vision. Giving him the option. Allowing him to _choose_ if he wanted to be touched or not. Hesitantly, he grasped their hands in his, squeezing tightly. His soul relaxed in increments, and he leaned bodily against Rus. Blue settled against his other side, and he found that he welcomed the contact.

Exhaling, he opened his sockets and his gaze automatically found Red. He seemed so small and vulnerable at that moment, and his soul lurched. “Rus—“ he said, but Rus already knew what he needed. Red was deposited gently in his lap, and Edge pulled him close. He reminded himself why he did the things he did. He had to survive. He had to be strong. Sometimes, he had to be cruel and ruthless and cold. It was the only way to protect everything he cared about.

Unexpectedly— _wonderfully_ —Red squirmed a little in his grasp. “…boss…?” he murmured, still dazed and out of it. “ ‘m i dead?”

He grit his teeth to hold in relieved laughter. Or a relieved sob. Could have been either, really. There was a part of him that had been utterly convinced that Red was never going to wake up. It was illogical, but fear was not often born of rational, reasoned thought. “No, you idiot,” he rumbled, “Can’t get rid of you that easily, apparently. No matter how I may try.”

“EDGY-ME!” Rus sounded rather scandalized by his reply, but Red just chuckled sleepily.

Then he seemed to realize that Rus was there too. “heya, creampuff,” he murmured, reaching out, “the hell ‘r ya doin’ in underfell? sans is gonna lose ‘is shit….”

“L-LANGUAGE, CHERRY!” He looked at least as relieved as Edge felt, orange tears gathering in his sockets.

Edge raised a brow-bone. “Cherry?” he asked, but Red was already asleep. He turned to Rus, waiting.

“WELL,” Rus said, looking suddenly self-conscious, “EVERYONE CALLS BLUE ‘BLUEBERRY’ AND RAZZ IS ‘RASPBERRY’. SO…CHERRY SEEMED APPROPRIATE.”

Edge chuckled at the pet name, shaking his head a little. He was definitely going to torture his brother with that little piece of intel. “So, what’s Sans?” he asked.

“OBNOXIOUS,” Rus replied, deadpan. Edge held back a grin.

Recognizing that he had to be feeling better if he was trying not to smile, he conducted another mental survey. His soul was settled again, though he wasn’t eager to test it. He wouldn’t be ready to try eating again for at least a few hours. The matrix wrapping his ribs was thicker, though; it no longer looked like his bone fragments were wrapped in red thread. Still, he would need to replenish his magic. Sighing, he pulled away a little. “Blue,” he asked, “would you bring me some hot chocolate?” Remembering who he was talking to, he tacked on a ‘please’.

For a moment, it looked like Blue would question if that was a good idea or not, but he seemed to understand that Edge probably knew himself best. “Of course, Edge!” Smarter than his brother, then.

A nauseating mix of rage and panic rose up at the reminder of Paps and their deal, now thrown into uncertainty. Earlier, he’d assumed that Paps wanted to change their deal…but what if he just wanted to cancel it entirely? Edge couldn’t really blame him; he and his brother had been a lot more trouble than the original deal had encompassed. Still, Edge had no idea what he’d do if his other self told them to leave.

 _We’d make it work_ , he assured himself, looking down at Red. They’d survived in Underfell long before learning of the alternate universes. They would continue to do so, if it came to it. He forced himself to calm. Whatever happened, whether Paps wanted to alter the deal or cancel it, Edge and Red would be fine. They’d pull through as they always had. And Edge could be assured that, no matter what Paps demanded of him, it most certainly wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d been forced to do. He suppressed bitter laughter; it wouldn’t even be the worst thing he’d done _today_. Breathing deeply, Edge petted Red’s coronal suture, earning a quiet purr. They would survive. Edge would make sure of it.

“Rus.”

“YES, EDGY-ME?”

“Turn it off.”

Rus sighed. “WASN’T IT NICE, THOUGH? JUST ALLOWING YOURSELF TO RELAX? YOU COULD REALLY USE THE REST, EDGY-ME.”

“Turn it off,” he insisted, “or I’m going to start screaming obscenities at the top of my voice, and I think _you_ know exactly how loud that really is.”

Another sigh. “YOU ARE THE WORST PATIENT EVER.” He stopped projecting, though.

Under his breath, Edge muttered, “Only because you’ve never had to care for yourself when you’ve been sick.” Sans had told him the stories. Edge actually felt a little sorry for the smaller skeleton.

Before Rus could retort—if he’d even heard—Blue returned with a mug of hot chocolate…and Paps trailing behind him. Edge tensed briefly, but the other Papyrus didn’t follow Blue past the dining room table. He set his mug down at the table and swung a chair out so that he could see the younger skeletons, but was clearly set apart from them.

Something about that didn’t feel right.

Edge pushed that feeling away and glared at the other skeleton. Paps flinched and looked away. Good—at least he felt guilty about breaking his word, even if Edge didn’t have the magic to make him feel the shame of it. “hey, blue said that red woke up?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at them from the side.

Rus and Blue waited a beat, giving Edge the opportunity to speak if he wanted. Red was his brother, after all. Edge said nothing, just continued to stare the other Papyrus down. “YES!” Rus said, as if his own enthusiasm could compensate for Edge’s silent glare. “RED WOKE UP, BUT ONLY FOR A FEW SECONDS. IT IS A GOOD SIGN, THOUGH.”

“yeah,” Paps said, “i’m glad the, uh, the kid’s starting to come out of it. you guys are keeping him nice and secure, then?” He said it as if he was talking about Red, but he glanced at Edge.

Edge growled quietly. Rus and Blue glanced at him nervously. “UH, YES,” Rus said, doggedly ignoring the tension between his duplicates, “YOU COULD JOIN US, LAZY-ME; THERE’S PLENTY OF ROOM.” Edge started growling louder, and even Blue looked a little alarmed by the suggestion. He shot Rus a Look, and Rus just gave a panicked shrug in return.

Thankfully, Paps was not completely oblivious. “no, i’m good over here. you guys look like you’ve got everything pretty well in hand.”

“We’re going to finish our puzzle,” Blue said brightly, shifting the puzzle board back into place. Edge had to set Red to the side, tucking him between himself and Rus.

“that’s cool, bro,” Paps said, “you want me to put on a movie or some music or…something?” He’d pulled his lighter out of his pocket entirely at this point and repeatedly lit the flame. Edge narrowed his sockets further, annoyed.

There was something beneath the annoyance, though. Particularly when he really took note of the way Paps was dressed—covering as much bone as possible, shielding himself from view and wrapping his bones in warm, soft clothing. Edge tugged on the blanket he had wrapped over his shoulders, not wanting to think about that too deeply. Being annoyed and angry was easier than being…. Well, anything else really.

_(“What’s yer number, Swapshit?”_

_“two.”)_

“Yeah, that’d be great!” Blue said, jarring Edge out of his contemplation, “Whatever you want, Papy.” Paps nodded and stood abruptly, looking relieved to have something to do. Edge watched him intently but was distracted when Blue pushed a mug of hot chocolate into his hands. “Here you go, Edge.”

He nodded tersely and resumed watching Paps. Absently, he sipped at the hot chocolate, trying not to grimace at the taste. Liquids had always been easier, though, and he relaxed a little, feeling the magic incorporate itself smoothly into his soul. He glanced at the puzzle, then back at Paps. The other skeleton wasn’t going to try anything in front of Blue and Rus, at least. He was almost as good at playing innocent as either of them, now that Edge thought about it.

Slowly, Edge allowed himself to focus more on the puzzle and less on his alternate. Rus and Blue had resumed their happy chatter, and Paps was quietly sitting at the dining room table, playing solitaire, it seemed. In the background, another of Blue’s hypnotic animes played. Red was still tucked between his brother and his…stars, what was Rus to Red anyway? A friend? Not a lover—Edge knew that much, at least. Though he suspected that was only a matter of time. Every once in a while, Red would shift and murmur something sleepily, but it would probably be a few more hours before he regained consciousness entirely.

Edge was okay with that. Right now, he was too relieved to be angry with Red, but eventually…he and his brother would need to have a little talk about his ‘prank’. He wasn’t especially looking forward to that conversation. He and Red might ‘fight’ more often than their alternates, but their words, harsh though they may be, rarely had any teeth. This time, though, he knew he’d have to brace himself for a real fight.

He drank his hot chocolate in small sips as they fitted the puzzle pieces together, drinking slowly enough that, halfway through, it wasn’t ‘hot’ chocolate anymore. That mattered to him even less than the unappealing taste. He just powered through, like any other mildly unpleasant task. His soul, at least, was settled enough that it didn’t give him too much trouble.

Unexpectedly, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, brow-bone raised when he saw the screen ID. Lifting it to his acoustic meatus, he asked, “Sans, why the fuck are you calling me?”

Rus immediately went stiff and still, sockets wide with panic. Over the line, Sans said, “heya, buddy.” Edge rolled his eyelights, annoyed by the address. As always, he developed a kind of double vision as soon as he answered the phone, looking out through Sans’ eyes. It appeared that he was out in Snowdin Forest, near one of Rus’ puzzles. “i was just wonderin’ if you knew where your brother was.”

That. Was a really weird question. “Yes,” he said slowly, hand on Red’s head, “I’m looking at him right now. Why?” He put real emphasis on the last word, hoping Sans would pick on the unspoken ‘the fuck does it matter to you?’.

“oh, ya know. no reason.” Bull. Shit. “it’s just…my bro ran out of the house pretty early this morning. didn’t even wake me. he, heh, he left a note, but all it says is ‘THERE’S BREAKFAST SPAGHETTI IN THE REFRIGERATOR. I’LL BE BACK LATER. PICK UP YOUR SOCK.’ not, heh, especially helpful. i’ve already called undyne, and she says she hasn’t seen him. he’s not out in the forest recalibrating his puzzles either; so, i thought _maybe_ your bro and my bro had, ya know, met up. or something.”

Edge rubbed his nasal ridge, closing his eyes to fend off the headache his ‘phone vision’, as Red called it, always gave him. “Well, Sans, I don’t know what to tell you. The runt is with me, and I can guarantee that Rus isn’t in Underfell. Have you tried calling him? He’s usually good about answering the phone.” _Rus, I swear—if you’ve been ignoring Sans’ calls…._

“oh, ya know, i don’t want him to think i’m worried or anything.” Stars on fire, these Tale-verse monsters. _Honestly_.

“Why don’t you give Blue a call? He and Rus are pretty close, aren’t they?”

“heh, that’s not a bad idea. thanks, edge.” He hung up, and Edge glared at Rus.

“Really? You couldn’t have composed a less suspicious note?”

“SUSPICIOUS? THERE WAS NOTHING SUSPICIOUS IN MY NOTE!”

Edge covered his face with one hand and muttered under his breath. Then he eyed Blue. “Better figure out what you’re going to say, pipsqueak. He’ll be calling in a minute.”

“Why’d you point him toward me anyway?” Blue asked, panicked, “You didn’t have to tell him that!”

Edge crossed his arms. “I just spent the entire morning searching for my brother. Even if Sans is being an overprotective ass, I’m not going to put him through that.”

Blue’s phone rang, and he went stiff. Taking a deep breath, Blue pasted on a smile and answered brightly, “This is the Magnificent Sans! How can I help you? … Oh, _hi_ Sans! How are you? What am I doing, well—“ Blue started babbling on, looking almost frantic.

Edge shook his head, leaning back. Seriously? These two…. Blue was brave enough to talk him down from a panic attack, and Rus kept openly defying him, risking his wrath. As soon as big brother showed any sign of disapproval, though, they froze. It was actually kind of embarrassing.

“—Oh? Rus? Yes, he’s here. Do you want to talk to him?” Rus frantically shook his head, but it was too late. Blue passed him the phone, mouthing ‘I’m sorry.’

“HELLO, BROTHER!” Rus said, even more loudly than usual. Edge face-palmed. _Asgore’s horns, Rus, seriously?_ “OH. YOU KNOW. THE THINGS WE ALWAYS DO. WATCH ANIME. MAKE MUFFINS. …NO THE KITCHEN IS FINE. UNUSUAL? NO, NOTHING UNUSUAL. EVERYTHING IS. USUAL. COMPLETELY USUAL. WHOLLY AND ENTIRELY USUAL. WHY DO YOU ASK?”

Edge now had both hands covering his face. “Stars on fire, Rus,” he muttered, “why not just tell him you’re currently fucking Red if you want him to get over here so badly?”

Rus went orange _immediately_. Okay, Edge could now see why Paps kept trying to make him blush—that was kind of hilarious. Not that he’d ever say so. And he was still angry with Paps, anyway, so any further flirting would earn him a punch in the face.

Blue, too, blushed, though not as vibrantly. “Edge,” he whispered, “that’s inappropriate!”

“OKAY, BROTHER. I’VE GOT TO GO NOW!” Rus said, speaking too-loudly again. Probably trying to override the other skeletons’ conversation. “YES…. YES…. I LOVE YOU TOO. GOOD BYE, BROTHER.” Rus hung up and looked at the phone.

“Well?” Edge asked.

“Um,” Rus said, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain, “He, um. He says to have fun. Do you think…? Think he’ll just…let it go?”

Across the room, Paps said, mildly, “after that? oh, hell no. he’s coming over here with bells on, and the three of you are in deep shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Edge did not want to cooperate with me for this chapter. Seriously. It took me several days to get inside his headspace. He is a cagey motherf*cker, and he makes things difficult for me sometimes.
> 
> Thus, if this chapter sucks, that's why.
> 
> Also, WTF? How did this fic get to be more than 100,000 words?


	21. Their proper name is susuwatari, guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is bickering, and Sans really wasn't expecting this. Also, puns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for unhealthy coping mechanisms and references to disordered eating.

Paps sat back and stared at the three younger skeletons, not sure if he should be amused or annoyed. Did they do this often? Try to cover for each other? Why was Rus lying to Sans in the first place? Sans was just looking out for his bro. If Paps had woken up to discover that Blue was missing, and he only had a ‘suspicous’ note to reassure him that his brother was okay, he’d probably try to get in contact with him too. That seemed pretty reasonable, really.

The weird phone conversation, however, would have been cause for some actual concern.

“Just us?” Edge asked, brow-bone raised, “If he has reason to be angry with us, he’s got just as much reason to be angry with you—you’re complicit in all this, if nothing else.”

“i’m not the one that lied to him, edgelord.”

Edge raised a brow-bone. “Lied? I certainly didn’t lie.” He pointed to Red. “With me.” He indicated Rus. “Not in Underfell. Sans should have asked how I was so certain his brother wasn’t in Underfell. I fail to see how I’m responsible for his faulty assumptions. Blue didn’t lie. The only one to lie was Rus, and one could argue that ‘unusual’ is a subjective term. We all know Rus certainly has his own ideas regarding what ‘usual’ means. Now, if only the two of them had managed to keep their heads, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” He said the last with a meaningful glare.

“I PANICKED.”

“Clearly,” Edge replied. He eyed his hot chocolate and seemed to debate with himself before taking a tentative sip.

Seeing that, Paps’ soul clenched. Earlier, Blue had asked him to wait in the kitchen while they tried to get Edge to eat. Knowing that Paps’ presence would only upset his alternate, Paps had agreed. He’d sat on the floor beside the doorway, listening to his brother and Rus talk, to the click and clatter of silverware, and to the shuffling of puzzle pieces. Edge hadn’t really said much after the initial exchange between the three.

At first, Paps had just been grateful—he’d thought it would be more challenging to convince the edgelord to eat at all. It had also surprised him a bit that Rus, apparently, had known about Edge’s food issues. Paps hadn’t realized that he and Red were so close. Red had certainly never shared his concerns about his brother with Paps. Then again, would Paps have been receptive? Not before now. He still found it somewhat surprising that he would open up to Rus of all people, however.

The younger skeleton’s peaceful exchange had ended suddenly, with a flurry of movement and a clatter of dishware. Mere seconds later, Blue spoke, soft and gentle but firm. The same line he’d used on Paps. _(“What do you need?”)_ Leaving no room for denials, but offering help nonetheless. Then Edge spoke, and Paps’ soul had ached to hear his voice so weak and strained, not to mention what he’d said. _(“I’m not hungry anymore.”)_

Hearing that, Paps had pulled his legs to his chest and curled his arms around them, forehead pressed to his patellae. It had taken every once of willpower he had to stay put, knowing that Edge was hurting, that Paps’ presence would only upset him further, that there was _nothing he could do to help_. When Blue had come back to the kitchen, he set the tray on the counter, and Paps was gratified to see that much of the food was gone. He hoped that Edge had managed to eat at least as much as the other two before losing his appetite.

Blue took one look at Paps and knelt down to hug him, saying that he could come out to the living room. He needed to keep himself separate from the others, and he had to act like everything was okay, however. If he showed any signs of distress, then Edge was going to get upset as well. They wanted Edge to stop reacting to Paps with hostility, though, and the best way to do that was to move slowly. Baby steps, or Edge would either bolt, or he’d come up swinging. Knowing Edge, it would probably be the latter.

So that left him here, across the room, while the younger brothers bickered amongst themselves. “Would you stop that?” Edge asked, as Rus whimpered quietly and pulled Red into his lap. “Honestly, Rus, how hard is it to say, ‘I’M AT THE SWAP BROTHERS’ HOUSE. BLUE AND I ARE WATCHING SOME SHITTY ANIME AND BRAIDING EACH OTHERS’ HAIR’?”

“Edge, we don’t have—“

“DON’T KILL THE DREAM, BLUE.”

“Not the point,” Edge said, rubbing his nasal ridge, “Seriously, what is wrong with you two? You’ve been pushing me around all day, and I know you can both play sweet and innocent when necessary, you manipulative little punks.” Paps raised a brow-bone at that, even as both Blue and Rus blushed.

“That’s different!” Blue protested.

“IT’S FOR YOUR OWN GOOD,” Rus agreed.

Paps eyed the three and asked Rus, “why not just tell sans where you were going? or what was going on? heck, why not just bring him here?”

Rus and Blue exchanged a look. Edge looked between them, and his brow-bone slowly crept up. Then he smirked. “Really?” he asked, “I’m actually kind of impressed. Have you and Red—?”

A bright orange flush darkened Rus’ cheekbones and he buried his face in his scarf. “N-NO! DON’T BE—DON’T BE _LEWD_ , EDGY-ME. WE’RE JUST FRIENDS. THAT’S _ALL_.”

Smiling smugly, Blue said, “For now.”

“BLUE!” Rus said, scandalized. “IT’S NOT _LIKE_ THAT….”

“But you’ve thought about it,” Edge said, just as smug as Blue.

“I AM NOT HAVING THIS CONVERSATION RIGHT NOW,” Rus said, still covering his face.

“uh, hey,” Paps said, waving his hand a little. He too was smiling, though more because Rus was incredibly adorable like that and not so much because he understood a word of what the other two were going on about. It felt like he was missing something here. There was obviously something going on between Rus and Red, but what, exactly, had ‘impressed’ Edge? “remember me? you gonna answer my questions?”

Rus squirmed a bit and said, unusually quiet, “Cherry and I…talk. That’s—that’s all. Really. We just talk. Sans doesn’t like him, though. Whenever they’re together, they always fight. They may be smiling and joking and making puns, but I can tell they’re really fighting. I don’t want to upset Sans, but—but Cherry is my friend, and I wanted…I wanted to be here for him.”

“If you’d left a less suspicious note—“ Edge started.

“THERE WAS NOTHING WRONG WITH MY NOTE!” Rus protested, then he sighed and looked down at Red. “I didn’t want to lie to Sans…but I didn’t want him to know where I was. Ever since he caught Cherry and me talking one day, he keeps…showing up. Even when I’m not meeting Cherry! I know he’s just worried, but—he doesn’t _need_ to be worried! There’s nothing _wrong_. I don’t know why he’s acting like this!” He rubbed his humerus, looking frustrated and sad.

“Rus, have you talked to Sans about this?” Blue asked. Rus flinched and petted Red’s skull. Red burrowed closer, murmuring something unintelligible before falling back asleep. If Rus hadn’t looked so forlorn, it would have been cute.

“No,” he replied, “I know I should, but….” He cringed a little, shrinking in on himself. Very quietly, he said, “I just…I want everyone to get along, to be…happy. Together. Is that…is that really so much to ask…?”

Blue’s smile brightened and his eyelights, briefly, fuzzed into stars. “Well, Edge and Paps are—“ Edge paused to look at him, brow-bone raised, “—nicer to each other. Maybe Sans just needs to get to know Red, and he won’t be so hard on him anymore?”

Rus didn’t reply, and Edge snorted derisively. “Good luck with that,” he said, fitting a piece into the puzzle. Blue put his hands on his hips and gave him a Look.

“Edge, if you don’t have anything useful to say, then don’t say anything at all.”

Slowly, Edge sat up, mug of cocoa held loosely in one hand. “You want useful?” he asked, and Paps felt a trickle of unease travel down his spine. He opened his mouth to warn Blue, but Edge was already continuing. “I’ll give you _useful_.” Edge turned to Rus and said, sharply, “Stop moping. There’s nothing you can do about it—you can’t force people to like each other.”

“I meant _encouraging_ ,” Blue said, sighing. “If you can’t say anything _encouraging_ —“

“Then next time choose your words more carefully, pipsqueak,” Edge snapped at him, “and I’m not done yet.” He turned back to Rus, who had hunched further in on himself.

Paps eyed the trio and said, “edge, maybe you should—“

Edge just ignored him entirely. “Look, creampuff, if you want to date my brother—“

“I DON’T WANT TO—“ Rus said, voice an octave higher than usual. “I NEVER SAID I WANTED TO DATE ANYONE!”

Edge rolled his eyelights. “Fine. Whatever. If you want to ‘befriend’ my brother—“ He muttered something under his breath, and Rus went an even brighter orange in response. “—then the only people who have any say in that are you and the runt. It doesn’t matter if Sans approves or not. The only way Sans can stop you, is if you let him.”

Blue and Paps both stared at him, a little surprised. Sure, it wasn’t ‘encouraging’, exactly, and he hadn’t said it nicely…but it wasn’t bad advice. Blue reached across the edgelord’s lap to take hold of Rus’ hand. Edge eyed the both of them for a moment before, grudgingly, putting a hand on Rus’ shoulder. “No one’s dead,” Edge reminded him, “No one’s dying—not a word, either of you—and no one is in any immediate danger. Sans isn’t going to hurt Red, and Red’s certainly not going to hurt Sans. They may not like each other, but the worst they’ll do is be intentionally obnoxious and make snide comments.” He caught Rus’ eyelight and said, gruffly, “So stop acting like someone’s about to dust your best friend, creampuff.”

Orange tears glimmered in the edges of Rus’ sockets, but he was smiling. Edge pulled away, uncomfortable. “And stop trying to please everyone!” he snapped, arms crossed, “You’re just going make yourself miserable.” He turned to Blue, who was staring up at him, eyelights bright blue hearts. “That goes for you too, pipsqueak!”

“I didn’t—“ Blue started to protest, but he was grinning.

“It’s a pattern of behavior. You don’t need to be doing it right now for me to call you out on it.”

“Alright…boss.”

Edge paused to glare at him, though Blue just gave him a cheeky smile in return. “Smart-ass.” Then the two of them were caught up in one of Rus’ hugs. Edge squirmed and shoved at the other skeleton’s chest, though he gave no sign of pain or panic. “The fuck are you—?”

“THANK YOU, BLUE!” Rus said. Edge started grumbling under his breath, but Rus just said overtop him, “AND THANK YOU, EDGY-ME! YOUR ADVICE WAS VERY USEFUL, THOUGH YOU COULD HAVE BEEN NICER.”

Seeming to come to terms with the fact that he was trapped, Edge sighed, put-upon, and patted his alternate’s skull. “There-there,” he said flatly, “Everything will be fine.”

“YES, EDGY-ME. LIKE THAT. THAT’S MUCH NICER. THOUGH NOT AS USEFUL.”

“I can do one or the other, Rus. I can’t do both.”

“DON’T WORRY; WE’LL WORK ON THAT LATER.”

Edge rolled his eyelights and, with a huff, asked, “So? What’s the plan then? How are we playing this? You want me and Red to hide or something?” He seemed to be studying Rus’ grip, trying to figure out a way to escape, probably.

Okay, this had been a fascinating peek into the workings of the younger brothers’ minds, but now, Paps had to draw the line. “no. no one is hiding anywhere. there is no ‘plan’. you three are going to sit there quietly and finish your puzzle—especially _you_ ,” he said, pointing to Edge. “you’re still injured. so stay put. i can handle this, alright?” Paps ignored Blue’s frantic motions to get him to stop talking. He also ignored it when his brother put his skull into his hands, shaking his head silently. Up until now, Paps had been content to follow Blue’s directions, but he wasn’t going to help them deceive Sans.

No matter how adorable Rus and Red were together.

“Oh?” Edge asked, brow-bone raised, “How exactly do you plan to do that?”

“i’m going to wait for sans in the machine room, and then i’m going to talk to him.”

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO SAY?” Rus asked, sockets wide.

Paps rubbed at the bite mark under his sweater, needing something to ground him. He knew that Rus was being overdramatic—Edge had practically said as much, reminding everyone that this was hardly an emergency. Still, the anxiety in his voice was enough to make Paps uncomfortable. “the truth. you can’t hide this from sans,” he said, “besides, red’s a good guy—if sans gives him the chance, he’ll realize that soon enough.”

He froze, suddenly realizing that Edge’s gaze was fixed on his hand. Paps’ phalanges curled. Unlike Blue and Rus, Edge would know what Paps was doing. Paps wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Mouth dry, he swallowed and forced his hand back down to his side.

Edge met his gaze for an instant, completely unreadable. Then he looked back at Rus. “Well, creampuff?” he said, still entrapped in Rus’ arms, “It’s up to you. There’s three of us and one of him.” Blue made a distressed noise. “Fine, fine. We can always try bribery, if you don’t want to resort to physical force.”

Paps pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead. “edge, this isn’t underfell—“

“THAT WON’T BE NECESSARY.” Rus drew himself up, his expression firm and determined. The fact that he was still holding the other two captive diminished the effect somewhat, however. “THE OTHER-MES ARE RIGHT; IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW SANS FEELS ABOUT CHERRY, BUT WE CAN’T KEEP HIDING FROM HIM. OR THINGS WILL NEVER CHANGE. GO TALK TO HIM, LAZY-ME. GOOD LUCK, AND GODSPEED,” he said seriously, meeting Paps’ eyelights.

Well. How did one even respond to that? “uh. right. thanks…i think. you two make sure the edgelord doesn’t try anything stupid, alright?”

“Don’t worry, Papy! We’ll watch him!”

“I don’t need to be _watched_ ,” Edge protested, starting to fight against Rus again, “I’m not a—“

Paps took a shortcut and found himself alone in the machine room. His soul clenched and he tucked himself into a corner, hoping Sans wouldn’t take too long. It would be a while, he thought, before he’d be entirely comfortable by himself. Reaching up, he tugged at the collar through his turtleneck, reassured by the bite of worn leather against bone and cartilage.

The stars were indeed merciful, because Sans did not disappoint. Within minutes, the portal clicked on and disgorged the shorter skeleton, who smiled as soon as he saw his brother’s duplicate. Paps had pushed his hands into his pockets, moving away from the wall, and started grinning as soon as the portal activated. “heya, paps,” Sans said, holding out his fist so they could bump. The elder brothers had long ago given up trying to shake hands or high five—the risk that one or both hands had been booby-trapped was too great. “how’s it going? rus and blue keeping you on your metatarsals?”

“ooh, ouch,” Paps said, wincing a little, “that sounds painful.”

“nah,” Sans said with a hand wave, “just hard to keep your footing.” He winked.

Paps’ grin broadened. “i know what you mean; the two of them do like to knock us off balance.” They shared a look, then broke out laughing. “oh, man,” Paps said, “i wish blue were here—he’d have loved to hate that.”

“yeah; shoulda saved it for rus.” They both sighed, a little disappointed that they couldn’t have shared their brilliant wordplay with their brothers. “so what’s up with tweedle-one and tweedle-two, anyway?” Sans asked, eyeing him side-long, “they were acting weird over the phone.”

Then Sans turned to look him up and down, and Paps felt…something. It wasn’t his sins crawling on his back, and it wasn’t the acute shame that Blue and Rus called up when they were disappointed in their brothers. If Paps had had skin, he’d have said it felt like Sans was peeling it back to take a long, slow look at his inner workings.

It was. Uncomfortable. To say the least.

Paps swallowed, telling himself that he was being ridiculous. Sans was back to smiling placidly. Harmlessly. Fiddling with his lighter, Paps looked away and said, “nothing to worry about. guess they’re just a little over-excited. we’ve got some unexpected guests.” Sans’ brow-bone rose, but he was still smiling.

“guests? you did remind them the dust-bunnies under the bed aren’t actually bunnies, right?”

Paps laughed, remembering the rather memorable occasion Blue and Rus had managed to scavenge one of the coveted Miyazaki movies from the Undertale Dump. “they’re pretty much over that, i think. though blue still apologizes before he starts cleaning. it’s adorable, really.”

Sans’ smile softened a little, his sockets crinkling. “yeah. they’re the best.”

“yeah.” They share a look.

Then Sans yawned and leaned against the machine, one hand curled so he could rest his cheekbone on it. “so. guests, huh? they wouldn’t happen to have red eyes and sharp teeth, would they?”

“got it in one,” Paps said, somehow not surprised that Sans had guessed that much.

“well, i don’t know if i should be offended or not. how come no one invited me to the multi-verse party?” Sans asked, still grinning, “you got the swapfells hiding in a closet somewhere too?”

“stars, i hope not. i don’t think i could handle another set of fell-verse monsters.”

He didn’t realize that his inflection was wrong until Sans’ eyelights disappeared. “what happened?” he asked. The note of faint amusement, a near-constant undercurrent to all of Sans’ words, disappeared suddenly from his voice, and he was studying Paps again. Like he could see everything.

Paps knew, because he knew Sans, that the other monster wasn’t trying to frighten him. If anything, he was just concerned, but suddenly, Paps’ soul started to pulse erratically and it was strangely hard to breathe. Could Sans see the— on his ribcage? Could he see what had been done to him? Did he know? Did he—?

Instinctively, he pressed his phalanges into the bite mark on his sternum. Pain bloomed, and he could breathe again. Everything was fine. All the people he cared about most were here now, and they were all safe and protected. He was safe too. Safe and loved. Everything would be fine.

“don’t worry about it, pal,” he said. His smile felt brittle, but it was okay for Sans to see that. As soon as Sans saw the state of their alternates, he’d understand. “just. edge is a little torn up, and he’s not exactly the best patient. i haven’t even been able to convince the stubborn bastard that we don’t expect anything from him in return. it’s fell-verse bullshit; apparently, kindness doesn’t come free where they’re from.”

Sans’ eyelights had slowly returned as he spoke, but he was still studying Paps closely. “that all?” he asked casually.

Paps curled his fingers deeper into the bite mark. “more or less.”

“uh-huh,” Sans said, perma-grin still in place. “well, if that’s all…mind if i come in?”

“nope. not at all.” They traded pleasantries as they left the machine room and made for the front door. Paps wasn’t really sure what he’d expected to find when he returned with Sans in tow, but somehow, he wasn’t especially surprised that Blue was waiting with a plate and grinning broadly.

“Hi, Sans~!” Blue said. “Are you hungry? We’ve got plenty of food.” He hesitated a moment, then said, “Rus made fruit compote, if you want to put some on your pancakes or yogurt. Everything else we pretty much worked on together. Well. I made the pancakes.” Paps had to bite down to keep himself from smiling. Trust Blue to find a gentle way of assuring their guest that the food was, indeed, edible.

“thanks, kiddo,” he said, rubbing the top of Blue’s skull. He looked away from the—slightly—smaller monster, gaze landing on the two Papyrus-es, bundled together in the ‘nest’. Sans went very, very still, and Paps realized that he probably hadn’t done a very good job of explaining the situation. Sans’ scrutiny had been just a little too unsettling.

Welp. Too late now.

Sans started toward the nest, neatly dodging when Blue tried to snag his elbow. Blue turned to his brother, one hand on his hip. Paps just shrugged in apology, looking sheepish. Blue sighed silently, setting the tray on the table before darting away to join the others by the nest.

“heya, bro!” Sans said, “you guys look pretty cozy.” Paps couldn’t see his eyelights from this position—he was still trying to give Edge some space—but if he had to guess, he’d say that Sans was probably staring at Red. “what’s up with short and stout?” he asked, pointing. Given that Red hadn’t so much as stirred at Sans’ voice, it was pretty obvious he wasn’t merely sleeping.

Edge scoffed, not looking up from his puzzle. While Paps was gone, Rus had apparently released him. “Short and stout? Really? You’re hardly one to talk, teapot.”

That startled a laugh out of Sans. “heh. teapot. that’s actually pretty good, edgelord.”

“Glad you like it; I’ll let you choose between that or ‘short-stuff’. Calling you Sans isn’t working for me.”

“eh. i kinda like teapot, to be honest.”

“Short-stuff it is, then.”

Paps started snickering. It was actually pretty funny when Edge was being an ass to someone other than himself. Now, though, Sans had turned his penetrating gaze on Edge, and Paps tried to see the injured skeleton with fresh eyelights. Paps had seen what he looked like before Blue’s bandaging, before he’d eaten anything. So he knew that Edge actually looked dramatically better now.

Sans hadn’t seen the improvement, though. All he could see were the prominent scratches on Edge’s face. The barely-there eyelights. The careful way he moved. The blankets wrapped protectively around the normally tough-looking skeleton’s hips and chest. And that’s only if Sans hadn’t checked the other monster. Even if the worst of Edge’s injuries were hidden, Sans had to know that he was bad off.

The small skeleton looked between the two Fell monsters, and his fingers briefly twitched into a fist before he relaxed his hand. “mind if i join you guys?” he asked, then crawled across Rus’ lap before receiving an answer. He wedged himself between Rus and Red, earning a sigh and an eye-roll from Rus.

“BROTHER, YOU’RE BEING—“

“Obnoxious,” Edge said pointedly. He and Rus shared a look, and both of them repressed a grin.

Sans just ignored them to look the injured skeleton up and down. “heya, pal,” Sans said, posture slouched and hands in his pockets. His smile was stiff though. “you’re lookin’ a little rough around the edges, there.”

The edgelord rolled his eyelights and went back to the puzzle. “Oh good,” he said, sarcastically, “I was afraid we were going to have to make do without your shitty comedy.”

“SANS, IS THAT REALLY APPROPRIATE?”

“hey, bro, i just call it like i see it, and the edgelord is definitely _more than a little torn up_ right now.” He said the last with a glance at Paps. His eyelights had dimmed, but his smile was still in place, if brittle. “so, edge—what happened, huh? you and your bro get jumped or something?” His control hand, resting in his lap, again shifted into a fist. Cyan magic glinted faintly between his fingers before he suppressed the reaction.

Edge glanced at him, saw his curled hand, then looked away in dismissal. “I’m sorry. The ‘overprotective older brother’ position has been filled.” He jerked a thumb at Red. “I’ve already got my hands full with _that_. I cannot deal with two of you. Please apply elsewhere.” In response, Sans looked down, eyeing the unconscious monster. His expression was a confused mix of emotion, impossible to read. Red, as if aware of the eyes on him, mumbled something and reached out blindly. Sans jerked away from the grasping hands, sockets wide as he pressed himself into his brother’s side.

If Paps hadn’t been watching carefully, he wouldn’t have seen Rus—gently—hip check his brother, pushing him just _slightly_ into Red. The unconscious monster immediately latched on, wrapping his arms around his duplicate’s waist and nuzzling into the material of his hoodie. Sans froze, his eyelights out and his arms raised, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Edge glanced his way and, smirking, said, “Looks like you’re trapped now, short-stuff. The runt’s worse than a limpet.”

“uh….” Absently, as if he wasn’t thinking about it, Edge reached down to run his claws over Red’s coronal suture. He sighed deeply and started purring loudly, clinging closer. Sans’ sockets went wider, if possible.

Blue appeared, setting a plate of food in Sans’ lap. “Do you want hot chocolate, Sansy?”

Sans looked between the three younger brothers, apparently realizing that he had made a tactical error at some point. Then he looked over at Edge and down at Red. Sighing, he put his arms down to rest one hand on Red’s shoulder. Surrendering. “eh. sure, kiddo. why not?”

Blue beamed at him. “What about you two?” he asked, looking at the Papyrus-es.

“I’LL HAVE SOME!” Rus said excitedly.

“Still working on this,” Edge said, holding up his mug as if in explanation. “I’m fine.”

“EDGY-ME, IT MUST HAVE GONE COLD BY NOW. BLUE, WHY DON’T YOU BRING HIM A FRESH CUP? NO ONE WANTS TO DRINK ‘LUKEWARM CHOCOLATE’. EXCEPT JERRY. AND THERE’S A REASON NO ONE LIKES JERRY.”

“Rus—“ Edge tried, exasperated.

“Okay, sure thing! Three fresh mugs of hot chocolate, coming right up,” Blue replied, pretending not to hear his objection. Edge glared balefully at both of them.

“You’re both incredibly annoying. You know that?” he asked, but Blue was already bounding away and Rus just smiled innocently.

“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, EDGY-ME.” Sans surveyed the entire exchange carefully. Still smiling. Still watchful.

The two Papyrus-es continued to bicker good-naturedly as Sans leaned against Rus and started picking at his food. His grin looked a little more genuine, a little less forced, though there was still a tightness about his features when he eyed the two Fell monsters. He folded a pancake up and popped it into his mouth whole. Rus sighed deeply. “BROTHER, CAN’T YOU EAT LIKE A CIVILIZED PERSON?”

“mmm…nope,” Sans said cheerfully. “i’d rather wolf it down like an animal.” He winked.

Edge groaned aloud, while Rus threw his hands up into the air. “BROTHER! THAT’S NOT EVEN A _GOOD_ PUN!”

“but you’re smiling anyway.”

Edge glanced at Rus. “He’s right, you know; you are.” Rus glared at him, but there was no heat in it.

“NO ONE ASKED YOU, EDGY-ME.”

“Like that’s ever stopped me.”

Paps just took a seat at the table again and watched them, his soul feeling warm and full. Without fully realizing it, he started to purr quietly, and his skull dropped to the table, arms pillowed under his chin. It was starting to actually sink in that he was safe here, that the people he cared about were safe. He’d known it intellectually, of course, but knowing and feeling were two different things, and he was starting to actually feel it again. It was almost intoxicating, really. Could one get drunk on joy? Because that’s what this felt like.

Sans and Rus were bickering happily—mostly over Sans’ eating habits, and a few truly atrocious puns—and they’d captured Paps attention, so it took him a few minutes to notice that Edge had gone quiet again, and that he was watching him. His purr stuttered for a second, then kicked back on, full-force. Edge was usually pretty hard to read, but he actually recognized that expression—it was the same assessing look he’d cast each time he asked for Paps’ number.

Edge might be angry with him—Paps had no doubts about that—but at least a small part of him still cared for Paps’ wellbeing. His soul burned brighter at the realization, and he held up four fingers. Edge nodded once, then went back to his puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I didn't tag it, but here--have some (slight) kustard. Why the hell not? This is basically "THE UF BROS NEED LOVE, THE FIC".
> 
> Let me know what you guys thought of Sans. I'm pretty happy with him here, but...full disclosure, I'm more of a Papyrus person. (Cause that wasn't completely obvious before, right?) So, Sans fans, I do apologize if I didn't do him justice.


	22. The average length of a hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge would like to have a conversation, and Paps should really consider cleaning his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings that I can think of.

Edge tried to convince himself he didn’t care about his lazy alternate. He tried to tell himself that the other skeleton was not his responsibility, not his concern. He tried, he really did. But, somewhere along the way, some part of him had apparently decided that Paps needed to be looked after and Edge was going to be the skeleton to do it.

(He hated that part of himself. Just a little. It was so _annoying_.)

Seeing the other skeleton press his thumb into the bite mark on his sternum had really put fuel on that fire. Initially, seeing that had sparked shame, causing his soul to churn. He’d thought the mark was causing him pain or something similar. Then he realized Paps was using the mark as a focus for his anxious fidgeting. Inappropriate heat spread through him immediately, though he’d tried to suppress that reaction.

(It was that annoying part of himself again. The part that was thrilled to fulfill another’s need. Whatever that need might be. _Damn it._ )

Once he’d managed to press down _that_ reaction, concern had reared back up. Why was Paps anxious? Edge hadn’t been able to identify anything in the conversation to cause that kind of anxiety. The concern had stayed with him once Paps was gone, and even when he’d returned with Sans in tow, Edge had remained faintly worried at the back of his mind. No matter how he tried to remind himself that not only was Paps not his problem, he was still upset with the other skeleton.

(Paps had broken his word. He was either going to toss them out or change his terms, and no matter how Edge tried to tell himself that he could handle it—whatever ‘it’ was—he was still anxious and angry over that.)

He was well-versed in being both worried and angry at the same time, though. Red was his brother, and they lived in Underfell; that particular, agitated combination was practically his neutral state at this point. When Paps had silently held up four fingers—and started purring quietly—though, the balance had tipped from concerned to angry once again. What did the other skeleton _want_ from him? If he wanted to change the deal or cancel it, Edge would really rather they got that over with now.

He resisted the urge to glance at Rus or at the kitchen door, where Blue had disappeared to. There was no way the sweeter skeletons would allow him to spirit Paps away for a conversation, and no way Paps would allow negotiations in their presence. Ideally, the lazy bastard would get off his coccyx and actually get _over here_ and give Blue and Rus something to distract them. It wouldn’t be too hard.

(And Edge was really starting to wish they were distracted. He knew that they were concerned about him, appreciated everything they’d done, but he was getting really tired of the fussing.)

Red, at least, was asleep…and Sans looked to be about halfway there, actually, now that he was done eating. Edge shifted just slightly, lifting his skull just enough so he could see Paps without being obvious about it. Edge blinked. No. No way was the bastard _asleep_.

He was. _Stars-damned, narcoleptic piece of—_

He took a breath and looked back down at the puzzle. All the loose pieces had been pushed to the edges of the board, sorted by color first and then by shape. There weren’t that many loose pieces left. It would definitely be done before the end of the hour. Too bad Edge really wasn’t interested in working on it anymore. He wanted to get up. He wanted to _move_ , and he wanted his ribs to stop _aching_ and his spine not to hurt and he didn’t want to be so aware of his ilium anymore and _he wanted to know where he stood and if he was safe and what was expected of him and_ —

He took another breath, fingers drumming on the puzzle board. He _hurt_ and he knew that the others were right. He needed to rest. He needed to eat and he needed to relax, but he couldn’t do any of those things until he _knew_ that he was safe here, that he wasn’t about to be tossed out. If there was a price, he’d pay it, but he needed to know what it was. Or his mind would just keep circling back to it, wondering and worrying at the issue until he made himself sick.

 _Fuck it_.

“Hey, Rus?”

“YES, EDGY-ME?”

“Catch.”

“WHAT—?” Then the pair of Sans-es were shoved unceremoniously into his arms. “OOF!” Red’s sockets blearily opened, while Sans blinked, surprised and confused. Red, seeing Sans, released his alternate and starting trying to escape. Unfortunately, the drugs had left him clumsy and uncoordinated, and he ended up thoroughly entangled with the other skeleton.

That mess should keep Rus occupied. Securing the blanket he’d thrown over his shoulders, Edge stood—and immediately regretted it. A wave of vertigo briefly caused him to stumble, but he recovered quickly. Grabbing one of the dining room chairs, he jammed it under the kitchen door’s handle, ensuring that Blue wouldn’t be able to interfere, and then he turned to Paps, who was wide-awake now. “You and I are going to have a conversation,” Edge said, reaching out to snag Paps’ humerus.

The other skeleton stared up at him, owl-eyed. Then he nodded, and their surroundings shifted. As soon as the room around them solidified, Edge lost his balance again, not prepared for the sudden shortcut. An arm caught him around the shoulders and guided him down. “oops,” Paps said, closer to his acoustic meatus than Edge was expecting, “sorry ‘bout that, edgelord. didn’t mean to make you fall for me.”

“You are so lucky you’re behind me,” Edge said. He elbowed the other skeleton in the ribs, earning a curse.

Weakly, Paps said, “you have an odd definition of lucky.”

“You’re lucky because if you’d been in front of me, I’d have punched you in the face.”

“uh. okay. not sure i deserved that,” he said, regaining his breath. “shit, edgelord. i think you bruised the bone.”

“Pffh. Quit whining. You’re fine.” Edge looked around himself, seeing that Paps had brought them to his room. Immediately, Edge sneered and scrabbled to his feet, trying to find a place that wasn’t completely filthy. There was nowhere. Disgruntled and unhappy, he marched over and spread the blanket he’d kept wrapped around his shoulders on the mattress before he sat down. Ignoring how suddenly vulnerable and exposed he felt—injuries on full display, dressed in only his trousers—he imperiously regarded Paps, popping one knee up so he could lay his elbow over it. “You indicated you wanted to renegotiate our terms,” he said, “So—talk.” He braced himself, mentally preparing for anything Paps might say.

Paps, still kneeling a few feet away, just stared at him for a long minute. Then he visibly swallowed and said, “stars on fire, edgelord….” His gaze swept over Edge, taking in everything. It made Edge’s soul pulse with a mixture of anxiety…and something else. Not anger, this time. “you should be resting,” Paps said, briefly meeting his eyelights before once again surveying Edge’s injuries. “how are you even—?” He shook his head, sockets wide and eyelights too-bright.

Forcing down his reaction to Paps’ scrutiny, Edge snarled, “You told me, that first night, that you wouldn’t coddle me just because I was injured. I’m going to pretend you’re a monster of your word and hold you to that. So, again: talk. What do you want?”

To his surprise, Paps sat back heavily onto his coccyx and mirrored Edge’s pose, one leg up and an arm resting on the patella. Except Paps was using that hand to cradle his cheek and cover one of his sockets, hiding his face. “edge….” He took a breath and scrubbed at his face, then his hand dropped to his chest and he dug his thumb into the bite mark. When he realized what he was doing, though, he wrapped his arms around his torso, hugging himself.

Edge didn’t think he’d ever seen the normally laid-back skeleton so upset outside of Underfell. He couldn’t understand it, though. Paps had the power here; why was he displaying this kind of weakness? Was this genuine distress or a show? If the former, then why was he so upset? If the latter, then what was he hoping to accomplish? Did he think it would convince Edge to let down his guard? “I’m waiting, Swapshit,” Edge said, maintaining his hard tone and his unyielding posture, “I want to know what is expected of me, and what I can expect from you in exchange.”

“asgore’s horns, edge,” Paps said, sounding anguished, “this isn’t underfell. i—i tried to tell you before. not…not very hard, admittedly, but…i did try.” He winced. “i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry for—for everything i did that first night. i’m sorry for everything that happened, for everything i said, and for yesterday—for not understanding and for not even trying to understand. i’m so sorry. there is no price, okay? the only thing i expect of you is to-to stay down and let yourself heal! is that…is that so hard to accept?”

Edge stared at him, then sighed. “Look, Swapshit, we don’t have time for this. As soon as Rus sorts out our brothers, he’s going to free your brother, and then it’s just a matter of time until they find us. Name your price, and be done with it. I don’t know why you’re playing games with me.”

“i’m not playing games!”

“Then stop fucking around and tell me what you _want_!” he snapped, losing patience.

“i want to start over!” Paps said, as if the words had just burst out of him. He took a few deep breaths, seeming to come to terms with what he’d said before elaborating. “i want to get to know you. the way i should have from the beginning, when our universes first crossed. i want—“ He faltered a little bit, still breathing hard. His fingers again dug into the mark on his sternum. The pain seemed to ground him, and he relaxed, if only marginally. Looking away, he said, so softly that Edge almost didn’t hear him, “i want a lot of things, edgelord, but not as part of a bargain. and i want you to believe me when i say that.”

For several seconds, Edge just stared at him, phalanges curling and uncurling. He turned away to stare at the sock pile, asking, “Are those clean or dirty?”

He could feel Paps staring at him. “…what?”

“I want to know if I should start folding them, or if I should just set them on fire. Never mind. Anything that was clean is dirty now that it’s come in contact with your floor. This place is atrocious. Why does Blue allow you to live in such squalor?”

“…edge. were you listening? did you hear—?”

“Of course I heard!” he snarled, hands closing into tight fists. “I’m not deaf!” He turned away from the socks, but refused to look at Paps. Instead, he watched the swirling trash tornado, trying to figure out why and how and generally just avoid thinking about Paps or what he’d said. He searched for something he could use to distract himself, but Paps had no books to sort, no pictures to straighten, and everything else wrong with the place was too much for him to tackle right now.

“This is really very simple,” he said, turning back to Paps, “I don’t know why you’re being difficult about this.”

Paps leaned forward, catching his face in his hands. “edge…i’m not….”

There was a gentle knock on the door, and Edge sighed. They’d been discovered. He’d wanted to get this _settled_. “Edge? Papy? Are you there? Can I come in?” Blue. Of course.

“yeah, bro, come in.”

Blue pushed the door open and surveyed the two of them. “Hi~! I brought your guys’ hot chocolate, if you want it.”

Edge stared at him. That was just too absurd. He ducked his head, digging his knuckle into his nasal ridge until it hurt. He chuckled quietly, but there was a definite note of bitterness in his laughter. “Sure, pipsqueak. Why the hell not?” The small skeleton darted in, pressing a mug into Paps’ hands and another into Edge’s. Edge took it and stared at the contents, belatedly remembering to thank Blue. The pipsqueak hovered beside him, bouncing on his toes and looking between the taller skeletons. “What is it?” Edge asked, annoyed, “You’ve clearly got something you want to say.”

“Well,” Blue said, tone very gentle, “It’s just…if you wanted to talk to Papy, you should have said so. We’d have given you some privacy. I wish you had just said something rather than risk injuring yourself, Edge.”

Edge blinked. That. Hadn’t even occurred to him. “I. I didn’t think of that.” He looked up at Blue, noting that the other monster was still smiling…but there was sadness around his sockets. A glance at Paps revealed that he still had his face in his hands, and he’d drawn both legs up. Edge looked between them, trying to understand and coming up blank. This didn’t fit with any of his previous experiences. This was just so _foreign_ to him.

 _It’s a whole other universe_ , he reminded himself, _It should be foreign_. Finally, speaking slowly, he said, “I don’t understand you two.” Blue regarded him curiously, but Paps wouldn’t look at him. “You have all the power here,” he reminded them, sounding almost appalled, “I can’t—I have almost no magic, and all that I do have is going into healing myself. I can barely stand without getting dizzy. I am _weak_ right now. Weak and vulnerable.” Was Paps curling in on himself? Blue’s eyelights had definitely dimmed. “Why bother playing nice? What do you have to gain by continuing to pretend?”

Blue knelt beside him, gaze on the ground. “We’re not pretending,” he said, firm but gentle. He looked up and their gazes met. The stars had faded from his eyelights, and there was something unyielding and certain in his gaze. “We’re not playing nice, Edge. We’re not trying to help you because we want anything. We’re helping because you deserve it, because we can see that you need it. You’re my friend, Edge, and that’s part of being someone’s friend. I know you’d do the same for me, if I needed it.”

For a few seconds, Edge just stared at him. “You have a good deal more faith in me than I do,” he finally said.

“You would!” Blue insisted. “You’re a good person, Edge. I believe in you.”

There really wasn’t anything he could say to that. He cleared his throat, breaking eye contact. Eventually, he said, “Alright, pipsqueak. I…can accept that from you. Thank you. Now, if you would? You said you’d give us some privacy, if I asked.”

For just a moment, Blue’s smile faltered, and he looked between the two Papyrus-es. Likely he was just realizing that he’d been caught by his own web of words and that Edge really hadn’t given him much room to wiggle out of that. The scarred skeleton might believe that Blue had his best interests at heart, but he also knew that Blue would provide whatever ‘gentle guidance’ he thought necessary to lead him there. If Edge didn’t eject him from the room now, he’d never get the chance to settle matters with Paps. “Um, yeah. Alright, Edge. Papy—you remember what we talked about?”

“yeah, bro. i’ll be nice. don’t worry.”

“Good.” Then he looked between them once more, acting as if he wanted nothing more than for Edge to retract his request. “Well. I’ll be downstairs. With Rus and Red and Sans. Just yell, and one of us will be up here if you need us.”

“okay. thanks, bro. we’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, Blue.”

Blue looked at them once more then sighed and made for the door. He paused with his hand on the knob. “You guys don’t need any—“

“blue. bro. seriously, i love you, but get out. i’ve got this.”

Blue shot his brother a look, but did as he asked with minimal grumbling. As soon as he was gone, the two Papyrus-es faced each other once again. “Him I can believe,” Edge said, pointing to the door, “but you’re not like Blue or Rus. You’ve never bothered to hide your intentions before; you hate me. That I can understand. That I get. This—“ He gestured loosely. “—I don’t understand. You. Hate. Me. You now have power over me. Why are you hesitating?”

Paps flinched, curling in on himself even further. “i don’t hate you,” he said, speaking even more quietly than usual, “not…not anymore, at least. no—no i…i never hated _you_. i hated the person i thought you were.”

“What does that even—?” Edge sighed and aborted the question, rubbing the space between his sockets with his knuckle. “Never mind. Who did you think I was? Who do you think I _am_?”

To his surprise, an orange flush heated Paps’ cheekbones. He ducked his head, but he couldn’t hide his blush. He didn’t look so much embarrassed as he did ashamed, however. “asgore’s horns, edgelord, don’t make me say it; you know what i thought.”

Edge’s brow-bone crept up higher. “Do I?”

Paps looked away, arms still wrapped around his knees. “i thought of you as…just…a thug. a killer.”

“I have 13 LV, Swapshit. I am a killer.”

“but not—not because you enjoy it! not because you want to!”

“Those monsters are still dead, and I can’t pretend I’ve only ever killed in self defense.” He’d killed preemptively, to prove a point or showcase his strength. He’d killed monsters out of a twisted kind of Mercy, knowing that they’d otherwise end up in Asgore’s menagerie. He’d killed so that Undyne wouldn’t have to gain the EXP; her LV was already too high, and she was walking a fine, dangerous line. (He’d killed for Muffet. Because he feared her. Because he wanted to please her.)

He’d killed for a variety of reasons. Self-defense was only one of them.

“but—“

“Don’t try to make excuses for me. I’m not an innocent. My hands aren’t clean—you know that. You can see it, Judge.”

Paps flinched, then said, slowly, “there are extenuating circumstances that i didn’t consider. things i didn’t think about before…things i still don’t fully understand now.” Before Edge could argue the point further, Paps said, softly, “i called you _garbage_ , edgelord. fell-verse _trash_.”

Edge gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m from Underfell. After the labs…Red and I grew up in the ganglands of Hotland. I’m a _gutter-rat_. ‘Fell-verse trash’ is hardly inaccurate.”

“don’t say shit like that,” Paps hissed, his eye actually lighting up, “you’re not—“

Coolly, calmly, Edge said, “I know what I am and what I’ve done. I’ve always been aware of my sins, Swapshit, and where I’m from has shaped who I am. So far, your past assessment seems accurate enough.”

“but you don’t deserve to be hated for those things!”

Edge considered that, then conceded the point. “Alright.”

Paps didn’t even savor the victory, he just said, soft and ashamed, “i thought you _beat_ your _brother_.” Edge flinched. Yes, that accusation still hurt. “i…i know you don’t. now. i can see…i know how much you both care for each other. i know how far you’d go to help him, if he was in trouble.”

It would be easy to linger on the difficulties of his relationship with his brother. They did not have the same kind of easy comradery Rus and Sans shared, or the sweetness of the relationship between Blue and Paps. However, the Tale monsters’ brotherly bonds weren’t perfect either, and Edge wouldn’t trade his brother for anything. “We look after each other as best we can,” he said simply, smoothing the wrinkles from the blanket.

“i never saw that before. there are so many things i never saw before.” He said it more to himself than to Edge. Slowly, Paps crept a bit closer. Edge merely watched—curious, but not wary. “you’re kind,” Paps said suddenly, and Edge laughed.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous—“

“no,” Paps insisted, “you are. i wouldn’t have ever thought—but you _are._ kindness isn’t the same as being nice, edgelord. it goes deeper than that. it means you care about people. it means you want what’s best for them…even when it hurts. being nice is a surface trait. being kind is rooted in the soul.”

Edge was shaking his head in denial, pulling away—but his soul was growing warm, and he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He didn’t trust his voice. Paps drew closer still, until they were only about a foot apart. He was kneeling now, one leg upright, the other on the ground. Edge stared at him, transfixed, as the other Papyrus spoke. “you’re brave,” he said, “you faced down—“ He swallowed and said, in a rush, “i know she hurt you, when you were younger. but you faced down—“

Edge held up a hand, breathing hard. Obediently, Paps fell silent. “I do not want to discuss Muffet.”

“fair enough. my point stands, though. you’re still brave.”

“Or incredibly stupid,” Edge shot back, trying to regain control of this little talk, “I’m still having this conversation, aren’t I?”

To his dismay, Paps grinned, saying, “and that! you have a sense of humor, edgelord. i never knew that about you.”

Admittedly, Edge was, at least to some degree, drinking in the admiration in the other skeleton’s eyelights. However, he was becoming flustered and—not uncomfortable, exactly, but he definitely wasn’t at ease. It was in his nature to enjoy being praised, the same as Blue or Rus or even Razz. But he’d never been praised for looking after his brother or for showing kindness—or for his sense of humor, of all things. It was unexpected, and it made him feel awkward and uncertain, even as his soul basked in it.

Lifting his chin pugnaciously, he summoned his confidence and said, sharply, “Yes, I’m an impeccable specimen of monsterdom. I _know_. I don’t see what you’re trying to prove.”

He wasn’t really expecting it, but he didn’t flinch or pull away when Paps took his hands between his own. “edge, i’m trying to say that you’re more than what you’ve done and where you come from. you’re a _person_ …and i want to get to know that person.”

Edge swallowed, unsure and unsteady. Without even realizing it, he’d pulled his hands away and shifted into a more defensible posture, readying himself. Denial and suspicion were his first instincts, and as always, there was an undercurrent of anger. In other circumstances, he probably would have stormed out of the room, irritated and unwilling to sort out his own feelings. As it was, however, he was too injured to retreat with any dignity…and no matter how he tried to deny it to himself, he did care about the other monster, about what he thought. Hearing these things from Paps was making his soul grow warm.

Edge owed it to the both of them to listen and figure out how he was going to respond.

Forcing himself to breathe evenly and steadily, he set his hot chocolate down and reached out, waiting to receive a hesitant nod from Paps before he pulled the other monster’s turtleneck down. Just enough to reveal the worn, dirtied collar he’d kept hidden under his sweater. Automatically, Edge hooked his fingers through the collar, taking comfort in the familiar act. He searched the taller skeleton’s eyelights. Paps couldn’t hold his gaze, not due to dishonesty but embarrassment. Unsurprising. Edge released the collar to take him by the chin, studying the other monster’s face. His sockets were wide and earnest, but the expression was not overdone. Edge didn’t think he was lying.

He sat back, releasing Paps entirely. Paps seemed to let out a shaky breath, and he glanced at Edge before looking away again, fiddling with his lighter. Another monster—a Tale monster—probably would have been comforted to find no evidence of deceit. Edge was not now and would never be a Tale-verse monster. He knew that, sometimes, the evidence of his eyes was misleading. He knew that kindness—or ‘niceness’, if they were going to use Paps’ definitions—could conceal cruelty.

However. ~~He was a fool for even considering this.~~ He also knew that kindness—true kindness, the type that was ‘rooted in the soul’—could come from the most unexpected places. ~~A naïve fool.~~ Sometimes, it was concealed by sharp words or even a heavy hand. ~~He was going to regret this.~~ He studied the other monster. He was no Judge, but he imagined the other skeleton could feel the weight of his scrutiny.

The very idea of trusting this monster made his soul twist with anxiety. Like walking a tightrope without a safety net. Waiting for the world to fall out from under him. (Again.) It was terrifying to trust someone. Dangerous. Foolish. Risky.

But without risk…there was no reward, either.

_(“Okay, you little punk. I’m gonna give you a choice here. Either I bind you hand and foot and drop you in the river to see how long it takes to drown a skeleton. Or.” Being lifted up, made to look the fish monster in the eye. “You can come home with me.”_

_Squirming in her grip, already bound and injured. “I’m not a whore!”_

_Laughter. “Yeah, and you’re not exactly my type, gutter-rat. Don’t worry; your virtue’s safe with me.” She winked, and he blushed furiously. “Look, punk, you’ve got spunk and you’re stronger than you look. You’re getting to be a real pain in my ass, so I figure my only option here is to dispose of you…or to make a guard out of you.”_

_Snarling. “I’d rather be a whore than a_ dog _!”_

_“Alright.” A sharp, frightening smile. “But would you rather be dead? You’ve got two minutes to decide, gutter-rat. Choose wisely.”)_

Yes, trust was terrifying, and Edge rarely gambled unless he knew the deck was stacked in his favor. However, he’d taken Paps’ measure and had already concluded that he would like to have this monster as an ally…as a friend. ~~Or something more.~~ But first, he had to take a leap of faith. “Alright,” he said, finally, “I’ll give you the chance to prove you’re being genuine.”

At this point, Edge really should have been expecting it, but the hug still startled him. He made an undignified noise, and was about to push the other away in protest. Then he noticed that Paps was purring, and he stalled, hands hovering in midair. Even if he hadn’t been braced for it, the hug wasn’t bad, he decided. Paps was being careful not to aggravate his injuries, and the scent of smoke and honey roused something inside him he wasn’t really ready to acknowledge.

It was. Good. Yes. It was good.

He relaxed slowly into the embrace, lowering his hands to grip the back of Paps’ neck with one hand. The other he ran up and down Paps’ spine soothingly. Suddenly, Paps stiffened and he said, “i. i didn’t ask. i’m sorry. is this? is this okay?”

Edge chuckled a little. “What? Are you afraid you’re going to break me?” He pulled back slightly, and realized that Paps really was concerned and upset. “Stars,” he said, rolling his eyelights. He not-so-gently ran his claws over his alternate’s coronal suture. “There are occasions when it is a very bad idea to touch me, Swapshit. This is not one of them. You’re fine, and I’m fine too. Relax.” The desperate strength returned to Paps’ embrace, and Edge allowed himself to hold and to be held.

…

…

“I’m not sure how long a hug is supposed to last, exactly, but this one seems to be going on for an inordinate amount of time.”

Paps laughed and asked, “you wanna go back downstairs, edgelord?”

“Yes, I think our business is concluded, don’t you?” Mid-sentence, Paps teleported them to the living room, right in the middle of the nest. Edge’s sockets widened, then he scowled when Sans whistled at them. “You are such a jackass,” he said to Paps.

“takes one to know one.”

“And mature too.” Then Paps tugged him down into the nest and laid his arm over the uninjured side of Edge’s chest. He closed his sockets and sighed, burrowing into the blankets. “What are you doing?” Edge asked, staring at him.

“sleeping. had a busy morning. time for a nap now.”

“…and I have to be part of this, why?”

“you had a busy morning too, edgelord. i think you’re due for a nap as well.”

“I do not—“

“boss?” a sleep-drunk voice asked, and Edge turned. Rus had managed to separate Sans and Red, and was currently sandwiched between the two, Red tucked against his left side and Sans tucked against his right. “you pull a stunt like that again,” Red continued, sockets half-closed and eyelights hazy, “ ‘n ‘m gonna tie ya down, ya stubborn bastard.”

Edge rolled his eyelights. “I’m quaking in terror, runt.” He tried to shift out from under Paps’ arm, but with a _ting_ his soul turned blue, holding him down securely. He turned to glare at Red, then saw that it was Sans with his arm upraised. “Oh for fuck’s sake! How is this any of your business anyway?”

“don’t worry, pal,” Sans said, catching Red’s hazy eyelight and winking, “i got this.”

“I’M SO GLAD YOU TWO ARE BONDING!” Rus squealed, hugging them both.

“CAN YOU BOND OVER SOMETHING _ELSE_?” Edge demanded, appalled.

“ease off, edgelord,” Paps murmured beside him, “just relax and go to sleep, ‘kay?”

“I WILL NOT—!” Then Rus started projecting, and Edge groaned, trying to push away the feelings of warmth and safety. “Rus!” he protested. It was not a whine. The Great and Terrible Papyrus did not whine. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“I’M SORRY EDGY-ME, BUT YOU SAID YOU’D BEHAVE. THROWING SANS-ES AND RUNNING OFF WITH LAZY-ME IS NOT BEHAVING.”

Edge tried to muster up the will to keep fighting, but then Blue was beside him, laying down to keep him sandwiched between the Swap brothers. Blue draped a blanket over the two Papyruses, tucking them in. “thanks, bro,” Paps said on a sigh. Blue was projecting too, of course.

Edge just glared balefully at him and Rus, his limbs already starting to go limp. “I’m not going to win this, am I?” he finally asked.

“Nope!”

“NOT A CHANCE.”

“…Damn it.”

“go to sleep, edge. you need it.”

Edge grumbled and cursed under his breath, but they were right, and he knew it. He needed to rest, and after his talk with Paps, he could accept—warily, yes, but he would accept it for now—that he was safe here. No one was going to hurt him or his brother. Hesitantly, he closed his sockets and sank into the blankets and the pillows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, guys. Work is...going to be interesting for the next few weeks. So, I might not have the time (or energy) to work on this as much as I'd like. This is not a hiatus, but I will probably be slower to update. So, you know. Maybe a chapter every two weeks? Instead of every week? Yeah. That seems about right.
> 
> Yay, more angsty-fluff! You knew it was coming.


	23. A fish of a different color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Red has regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in the endnotes.

Red watched the Swap brothers cuddle his boss, all of them apparently asleep. Despite the lingering haze of Muffet’s drugs, he tried to summon up the necessary anger. Hadn’t he had this conversation with Paps already? He thought Paps understood—Boss couldn’t afford to be soft like this. Boss had to stay hard and strong and cold. It was the only way he’d survive Underfell.

Red could play halvsies. Red could traipse over to the Tale-verses and pretend he belonged there, pretend he was rough around the edges but soft and sweet underneath. Then he could just as easily return to his home universe and play the bad guy, the street-tough. He could be Asgore’s Judge and administer a corrupt King’s ‘justice’ with a sadistic smile on his face. Red could do that. He may wake up every morning hating himself just a little bit more each day, and he may be slowly losing his grip on the person he truly was. But Red could do that.

Boss wasn’t like Red. He threw himself wholly and completely into whatever he did. He couldn’t split himself down the middle like Red did. No matter if it was a street-brawl or a new recipe, Boss gave his all, all the time. If he allowed himself to soften for the Tale monsters, he wouldn’t be able to be the monster he had to be in Underfell.

He’d never admit it, though, and Papyrus had to be protected. From himself, if necessary.

That was Red’s job, no matter how Boss felt about it. However, Paps being another Papyrus was complicating matters. Red wasn’t sure when, exactly, but at some point, he’d sort of…adopted all of the Papyrus-es. Boss took priority, of course, and Rus was…well, Rus was…. Needless to say, Rus was important. Slim just needed as much looking after as he could get. His own Sans certainly wasn’t doing it. And Paps was his smoking buddy, his drinking buddy. His _friend_.

That’s why, though Red desperately wanted to be angry with Paps, he couldn’t be. Paps was so obviously hurting. Mentally, if not physically. He broadcast it in the way he was dressed, in his nervous fiddling. Red might be a little hazy from the drugs, but he had his moments of lucidity. Enough to recognize that much at least.

And it was his fault. It was _Red’s fault_ that his boss, _his brother_ , and his friend were in such poor shape. Because Red allowed self-satisfaction and pride to blind him to his surroundings. Because Red wasn’t paying attention. Because he allowed Muffet’s crew to sneak up on him, when he should have known better. He did know better. He was a Fell monster; this lesson should have been burned into his very soul.

_boss shoulda left me. ’m such a fuck-up. even now…i only ever end up gettin’ ‘im hurt._

He curled in on himself, pressing his back against Rus’ side, gaze still fixed on Boss and the Swaps. Movements clumsy and slow from the drugs, he reached into his pocket and tightened his hand around the royal missive. Would he have still gone to Underfell, if he’d known that this would be the outcome? Red wasn’t sure. His soul was still torn up and in turmoil, twisting in on itself with a mix of anxiety and relief.

He couldn’t face his brother in the Judgement Hall again. He _couldn’t_. Not for something that was, ultimately, Red’s fault. He. Just. Couldn’t. Do. It.

_(“Lieutenant Papyrus of Snowdin. You are charged with murder. How do you plead?” An unearthly, booming voice. The kind of voice Sans could feel in his bones._

_“Guilty, my king.” Thinking,_ murder my ass, ya muthafucker. boss took down that child-killer ‘cause he knew ya’d let ‘im go free. ‘cause he knew ya wouldn’ do jack shit about it. an’ he knew the piece a’ shit would do it again. fuck you. fuck you, ya worthless excuse of a fuckin’ king. _Wishing he could speak his thoughts aloud. Knowing that Boss would be the one to pay for them._

_Keeping his mouth shut. Smiling. Even though this was a mockery of justice. Asgore was just flexing his muscles, reminding Boss of his place. If Asgore wanted to let a child-killer go free in his Underground…then Boss was supposed to just duck his head and meekly accept it. Asgore wanted his monsters ruthless and cruel, but he wanted them afraid and obedient too._

_“Let it be known that We have decided to show you Mercy for your past service to the Crown.” This was a warning. Next time, Asgore wouldn’t be so lenient. “Instead of execution, We will demand only half your total HP as payment. Judge. You may begin.”_

_‘Judge’. Ha. Sans wasn’t the judge, here. He was just Asgore’s tool. Like a hammer. Or a knife. Or a whip._

_Stepping forward, taller now than Boss. ‘Cause Boss was on his knees. ‘Cause Boss was waiting patiently for the first strike, features blank and accepting. Having to summon his magic. Having to—somehow—find the intent to hurt his Boss, his brother. Having to do it with a smirk on his face and a glint in his socket. ‘Cause everyone had to believe that they didn’t care about each other. ‘Cause everyone had to continue to believe Boss only protected him at the King’s command. ‘Cause Red couldn’t be Boss’s weakness. And Boss couldn’t be Red’s.)_

He hadn’t even noticed the red tears gathering in his sockets until Rus scooped him up and cradled him close. “ITS OKAY, CHERRY. EDGY-ME AND LAZY-ME WILL BE FINE. EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE JUST FINE.”

“promise?” he asked, still hazy and weak from the drugs. It wouldn’t carry the same weight as a promise from Sans or Paps, but Red wanted (needed) the reassurance.

A gentle hand landed on his skull, the phalanges tracing over his coronal suture. The sense of /LOVE/SECURITY/STABILITY/CARE/STRENGTH/ surrounded him, and he pressed into Rus. Boss was the best, of course, and he knew exactly how to take control of a situation, knew how to pull Red back from a downward spiral into self-hatred.

But.

Boss was cold and hard and, sometimes, cruel. (He had to be. It was the only way. Red snapped at him, pushed at him, _tested_ him, all to make sure he stayed that way.) He’d pull Red up by force, hard and swift. Rus, though…. Rus could pull him back, could offer him the stability he needed, while also providing him with the affection his soul _craved_. Rus was…. Red swallowed and stared up at his brother’s alternate, naked adoration and desperation in his gaze.

“I PROMISE, CHERRY. EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE.”

“ya don’ know that,” he whispered, pressing his face into Rus’ chest. Through the thick sweater the other skeleton was wearing, Red could swear he felt the warmth of Rus’ soul. The projected feelings of affection and safety poured into him. Stars, it felt good. He was purring again. Red couldn’t help it.

“NYEH HEH HEH. YOU UNDERESTIMATE THE GREAT PAPYRUS? OF COURSE I KNOW THAT EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY! I’LL MAKE SURE OF IT.”

Logically, that was ridiculous. How was he supposed to keep such a ludicrous promise? What was he going to do? However, somehow, it was a comfort. “thanks, creampuff. if anyone could do it, it’d be you.” His voice was muffled by the sweater and his own drugged haze, but audible nonetheless.

“OF COURSE I COULD DO IT!” He started making grandiose claims about his greatness, and Red just smiled and relaxed into Rus’ arms. He turned his skull, sockets cracked open, and felt a chill go through him. While Rus was distracted by his speech, Sans had turned to stare at him, head cocked just slightly to the side, sockets empty and smile in place.

Red swallowed. He didn’t care what anyone said, Sans was creepy as fuck. He was almost glad he hadn’t grown up in a Tale verse, if Sans was the skeleton he would have become. Stars on fucking fire!

Creepy or not, though, Sans had helped them keep Boss down, when the stubborn fuck probably would have tried to pull another stupid stunt despite his injuries, and Red had to be grateful for that. Instead of glaring or making lewd gestures, as he usually would when Sans got weird like this, he purposefully glanced back at Paps and Boss, then back at Sans. He nodded once in thanks.

He didn’t pull away from Rus, though. Gratitude only went so far, and if Sans thought he was going to win this, then he didn’t know himself very well. Rus was definitely too good for Red, but Red was an unrepentantly selfish bastard. If Rus was willing to waste his time on a gutter-rat like Red…well, Red was going to soak up every scrap of love and affection the larger skeleton offered him. And Sans could go eat a dick if he didn’t like it.

To his surprise, though, Sans’ eyelights reappeared, and he too cast a concerned glance at the cuddled Papyrus-es. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, really. Sans was, well, a _Sans_ ; of course he’d be concerned about Boss. Boss was a Papyrus. More than that, Boss was Rus’ direct counterpart. Just a step to the left, and Rus could have been Boss. A step to the right, and Rus would have been Paps. Of course Sans was (almost) as worried about them as Blue or Red, even if he was a step removed from the whole situation.

“hey, bro?” Sans said.

“WHAT IS IT, BROTHER? I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF REASSURING CHERRY.”

Red smiled. He’d been reassured after the first grandiose statement. Everything after that had been to amuse him, not reassure him. “i’ve been thinking. the edgelord and the asshat—“

“SANS. REALLY. PLEASE DON’T CALL HIM THAT. IT’S VERY RUDE.”

“he doesn’t mind, bro. he knows i’m just teasing.” Red knew no such thing. “anyway, i was thinking that they probably didn’t pack an overnight bag or anything. so…they’re about our size, right? i know anything of blue’s is gonna be way too small for mr. ‘i’ve just got big bones’.” Red did color a little at that. It wasn’t _his_ fault Boss was baking all the time, or that he’d always push his leftovers at Red. So what if he was the biggest of the Sans-es? Sans wasn’t that much smaller, so where did he get off—?

“SANS, STOP PICKING ON CHERRY! HE’S ADORABLE THE WAY HE IS,” Rus said before Red could stop being flabbergasted long enough to think up a comeback. (He blamed the drugs for that.)

“thank you—“ Red started to say, indignant, before coloring further and hunching down. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being called ‘adorable’, but he knew exactly how he felt about receiving complements from Rus. Noting Red’s flush, Rus trilled happily and cuddled him closer.

“SEE? ADORABLE.” Red went an even brighter crimson and tucked his face into the ruff of his jacket. “NOW, WHAT WERE YOU SAYING? TRY AGAIN, THIS TIME WITHOUT INSULTING _MY FRIEND_.” Rus’ assertion warmed Red, and he smirked despite his embarrassment, covertly sticking his tongue out at Sans when Rus wasn’t looking.

Sans noticed and started to scratch at his socket. With his middle finger. The gesture went over Rus’ head, but Red definitely caught it. “i was gonna say that i could run home real quick and bring back some clothes for ‘em. you know, pajamas, clothes for tomorrow. cherry-flavored—“

“SANS. PLEASE. WE’VE TALKED ABOUT THIS.”

“—probably doesn’t mind, but i’m willing to bet the edgelord will be crawling the walls come tomorrow. you’re a bit bigger, but your clothes will definitely fit him.”

Rus seemed to consider the idea before saying, “YES! THAT’S A WONDERFUL IDEA, SANS. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”

“skip clothes for the edgelord. i’ve got him covered,” Paps said from the other side of the nest, though he didn’t move or even open his sockets.

All three of them turned to stare at him. “HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN AWAKE, LAZY-ME?”

“Since you started talking,” Boss replied on a sigh, sockets still closed. “Your inside voice needs work, creampuff.” Rus cringed and offered an apology, even as Boss added, “And, Sans, ignore the Ashtray. He’s too narrow in the shoulders.”

“c’mon, edgelord. i like seeing you in my— _ow!_ ”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was that your face? Oops.”

“you’re such an asshole.” Neither of them tried to move away, though. They stayed cuddled together, looking perfectly content despite their less-than-kind words. And Boss’s tendency toward physically expressing his displeasure.

“Would you both please be nice?” Blue asked plaintively, sitting up to survey his charges. “We were having a moment. Why did you have to ruin it?”

“I’m not the one that made it weird.”

“hey, at least i didn’t hit anyone.”

“Both of you stop it, or I’m going to separate you!” Blue scolded, hand on his hips.

“sorry, bro.”

Boss sighed and muttered something that _might_ have been an apology. If you ignored what he’d actually said. And his unrepentant tone. Blue was apparently generous enough to do so. “Go back to sleep,” he commanded, “No more talking—and Rus? Can you, maybe, try to be a bit quieter?”

“I said I was sorry,” Rus said, softly. For him, at least. There was a bit of shuffling from the other side of the nest, then quiet. Red was already starting to drift off, barely aware as Rus and Sans—quietly—confirmed that Sans would be returning to their universe and coming back with a couple overnight bags. One for the Fell brothers, and one for Sans and Rus.

“heh,” Red mumbled into Rus’s chest, “multi-verse sleepover. we gonna have a pillow fight and paint each others’ nails?”

A large hand stroked over his skull and down his spine, making him purr. “If you want to, Cherry.” Red chuckled even as he drifted off, safe and comfortable and _happy_. That was the only nice thing about the drugs; he couldn’t think very deeply about anything for very long.

 

Red faded in and out throughout the day. Aware enough to know that Rus and Blue managed to coax some more food into his brother. (His soul swelled with gratitude when he saw that.) Enough to know that Boss had to be feeling better because he was being difficult again. Enough to realize that, at some point, he and Paps were the only ones left in the nest, and they were snuggled together while Paps slept soundly. For an instant, he’d been worried, but then he’d heard Boss’s laugh and the murmur of voices, so he’d known that everything was okay. Patting Paps fondly on the cheek—though, he was still so uncoordinated it was probably more like a slap—he settled back beside the larger skeleton and fell asleep again.

He stirred a few more times, but it was dark and nothing seemed to be happening. Once, he woke and the kitchen light was on. He could hear murmured voices from inside, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying, though he again recognized Boss’s voice, as well as Rus’ and Blue’s. He slept again, and then, when he woke once more, the Underground’s artificial “sunlight” was streaming in through the window, signaling the start of the day. And, with more than a not-insubstantial measure of relief, he realized that his thoughts were clear and he felt like himself again.

Sometimes, he thought the worst part about having low HP was the way certain kinds of magic tended to ‘stick’ to his soul.

Sitting up, he stretched and yawned, unwinding himself from the blankets. Picking delicately at his shirt, he realized that, at some point, he’d changed into pajamas. Pajamas that fit him a lot better than the ones he’d borrowed from Blue. The shirt also prominently featured a picture of a relaxed-looking skeleton and the phrase ‘Nothing gets under my skin’. Needless to say, he was fairly certain these did not belong to Blue.

He couldn’t actually remember changing clothes, but he dismissed that as unimportant once the smell of food reached him. Unless he’d forgotten—which was entirely possible—he hadn’t eaten anything since…pizza the day before yesterday. Voices carried from the kitchen, and Red paused to listen. He needed to proceed cautiously. Boss was definitely going to be mad at him for his little prank, and he did not want to walk into a trap.

“—crepes!” Blue was saying excitedly. “Edge made them. They’re like pancakes, but they’re thinner and you can put stuff inside them. Like tortillas but…not. They’re really good, though!”

Red’s sockets widened. Crepes? Boss made crepes? His soul started to pulse excitedly. “yeah?” Paps asked, “what’s in them?”

“Blue has spinach, ricotta, basil, and tomato, but I think you might like something sweeter.” Red heard the clatter as Boss picked up a plate and prepared a crepe for Paps. “Here,” he said after a few minutes, “Bananas, toasted almonds, and honey. Don’t say I never did anything nice for you, Swapshit.”

There was a long pause. Then—

“edge?”

“What? It’s not poisoned, if that’s what—“

“no, i just thought I should warn you; i may have to kiss you for this.”

“Try it, Swapshit.”

“Language! No cursing at the table—or kissing! Papy, just sit down and enjoy your breakfast. Edge, your magic is still low. Please stop doing that.”

“guess i’ll just have to admire from afar, then.”

“You’re not funny.”

“aw, c’mon, edgelord. admit it; you’re starting to warm up to us. under all that armor, you’re a real _honey_ , aren’t you?”

There was a pregnant pause, then, “Edge?”

“Yes, Blue?” Boss’s voice was terse and tense.

“Never feed him again. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“no!” Paps protested, sounding honestly upset, “no, that’s not necessary! i’m sorry! no more puns before breakfast, i swear!”

Boss chuckled, the sound low and deep. “Don’t worry, Ashtray. I’m certain we can work something out~.”

Okay. Red really didn’t need to hear his brother attempt to flirt. Besides, there were _crepes_.

Red searched the living room, looking for his jacket. If Boss was planning something, Red wanted to be prepared, and frankly, he just wasn’t comfortable without it. Thankfully, Boss knew that and had left it hanging across the back of a dining room chair. (Even if Boss was angry with him, he wouldn’t have denied him that. The Fell brothers fought with claw and fang and words sharpened by long familiarity, but no matter what, they looked after each other. Mentally and physically.) Letting out a relieved sigh, Red snatched it up and drew his arms through the sleeves, one hand immediately dipping into his pocket to tighten around the royal missive. Good. It was still there.

Playing casual, he stuffed both hands into his pockets and strolled over to the kitchen door, peeking inside before committing fully. Yeah, Boss was going to be mad at him eventually, but Boss could hold onto his anger, allowing it to simmer before unleashing it. It wouldn’t’ be out of character for Boss to let him eat before he started to dish—heh—into Red. He surveyed the scene, noting that Blue and Paps were both eating happily. Blue was grinning broadly, and Paps had his sockets closed, savoring. It was probably safe then, if the Swap brothers were here.

His gaze lit on their plates, and he felt his pupils briefly dilate into small red hearts, before he got himself under control. He glanced at Boss, seeing that his shoulders were relaxed and there was a slight sway to his hips, despite his injuries. Boss wasn’t just feeling better, then—he was actually in a good mood. He wore a pair of too-baggy sweatpants, paired to an undershirt that was just slightly too small. All but the bandages on his humeri and the fresh bandage across his cheekbone were concealed, so Red couldn’t evaluate his injuries any further without Checking him, and Boss _hated_ it when he did that. If Blue was permitting him to cook, though, Boss had to be doing better.

As for Paps…he was staring at Boss’s hips. Of course. Red had always known the other skeleton was a bit of a perv, but he really wasn’t sure how he felt about his _younger brother_ being the object of Paps’ ogling. He’d intended to wait for Paps to feel better before sitting him down for a ‘talk’, but given he was well enough to leer at Boss, they might have to have that conversation sooner than Red had anticipated.

After breakfast, though.

Casually, Red wandered into the kitchen. Boss glanced his way before turning his attention back to the stove. “Runt,” he said flatly. That was a good sign, actually. If he’d been either particularly welcoming or openly hostile, Red would have taken it as a sign to flee immediately. Cool and unconcerned, though, meant that he wasn’t attempting to conceal his anger…but that he also probably wasn’t ready to act on it yet.

“hey, red,” Paps said, waving his fork in greeting. He was blushing slightly too, likely wondering if Red had seen him eyeing Boss. Red dimmed his eyelights, allowing Paps to see that _yes_ , Red had seen and _no,_ he was not happy about it. Paps swallowed nervously before ducking his head to go back to eating. Oh, yes, they’d definitely be having a talk later.

“Good morning, Red!” Blue said brightly, stars in his eyelights. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry?”

Red smirked and leaned against the counter, still keeping his distance from Boss. Wary. “starved, blueberry. lookit me—‘m wastin’ away here! nuthin’ but _bones_!”

Boss sighed heavily. “Do you want food or not, runt? If you keep that up—“

“sorry, boss. couldn’t resist.” Boss just grunted in response and flipped a crepe onto the plate. He turned to survey Red, looking him up and down.

“Status?”

“s ‘n r. ‘specially if ya’ve got a plate fer me.” He bounced a little on his toes, hungry and eager. Boss rolled his eyelights, but there was a fond smile hiding behind his smirk. Another good sign.

“I might have something for you,” he conceded, “I assume you’d like two?”

“yeah!” Boss nodded and ladled batter into the pan, tilting it so that it spread evenly. While one side cooked, he spread the ricotta mix onto the plated crepe.

“You’re not getting two sweet crepes,” he said, “You need the calcium. Same for you, Ashtray.”

Red wasn’t even disappointed. He’d admit to a slight sweet-tooth, but the savory crepes were just as good. “boss?” he asked, scooting closer as Boss flipped the crepe, “have i told ya how great ya are lately?”

Boss’s fond smile grew marginally. “I’m certain you have, but a reminder wouldn’t hurt.” Inching closer, Red started to heap praise on his Boss, grinning when the younger skeleton puffed up in response. All the while, his gaze flicked between Boss and the plate and the frying pan. Magic pooled in his mouth, and he swallowed it down, occasionally wiping at his mandible. Boss plated the next crepe and deftly spooned sliced bananas onto it, sprinkling almonds over the bananas before drizzling honey over everything. He held the plate out to Red, who took it eagerly in his hands. He barely registered Boss’s words. “I wonder if you’ll still feel that way in a few minutes.”

As soon as he realized what Boss had said, Red paused, sockets wide. “w-what?” Boss was already driving a blue bone into Red’s soul, though, and Red felt it turn blue even before Boss flicked his fingers and lifted him up off the floor. Red squirmed, feet kicking uselessly. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t teleport. Boss had him well and truly trapped. Worse still, he’d taken the plate of food back.

“So,” Boss said, surveying him with a glint of red magic in his sockets, “care to explain why you thought nailing fish heads to Undyne’s walls was an appropriate course of action?”

Red swallowed nervously. “oh,” he said, trying for flippant but unable to keep the slight waver from his voice, “you know. thought she could stand ta redecorate a little.”

Boss sighed and set the plate on the counter so that he could reach into his inventory. “I had hoped you’d make this easier on yourself, but fine.” He pulled out the familiar strip of red silk and caught Red’s hands, despite the small skeleton’s flailing. He jerked Red’s hands up above his head, and Red relaxed marginally when Boss didn’t try to remove his jacket, instead pushing the sleeves down to bind his wrists together. He summoned a bone construct and looped Red’s bound hands over it, so he was suspended from the stationary construct. The grip on his soul released abruptly, and all his weight was in his wrists. “Comfortable?” Boss asked, testing the bindings.

“no,” Red said, sullen.

“Good.”

Red sighed and glanced at the kitchen table, asking, “blue? paps? yer seein’ this, right?”

“yep,” Paps replied, completely unconcerned. Red was really starting to wish he and Boss had stayed at odds.

Blue, meanwhile, stood up and came to stand beside Boss, his arms crossed. “Oh, yes,” he said primly, “I also saw Edge yesterday morning, just after he realized you were missing.” Red raised a skeptical eyebrow when Blue attempted to glare at him. It. It really wasn’t working for him, even if he had ditched the starry-eyed look. “We searched all over the Underground for you,” he continued, and Paps actually looked up at that, sockets widening. “We even called Rus so he could search Undertale. We were all very worried about you, Red! You didn’t even leave a note!”

“…you didn’t tell me that,” Paps said, “why didn’t i know about this? why didn’t you wake me?”

“Not now, Papy,” Blue said, turning slightly, “I’m trying to be intimidating!”

Okay, that was a bit too much for Red. He snorted, despite his compromised situation. “you? intimadatin’? pfhh, yer about as intimadatin’ as a _moldsmol_.” Blue lifted his chin and tried to meet the mockery head-on, but Red could see him wavering. Part of Red felt a little guilty, but it was just too damn funny. Blue. Intimidating. Ha! “boss? ‘r ya hearin—“ He looked up into Boss’s eyelights and immediately went silent, swallowing tightly.

Boss caught him by the collar and jerked him forward, snarling, “Do you think this is funny, Sans?”

Grinning weakly, Red said, “aw, c’mon, boss. lookit ‘im. it’s pretty funny.”

“I wasn’t asking _you_ , runt,” Boss snapped out, then glanced down at Blue.

“No,” Blue said grimly, chin lifted and gaze unwavering as he studied Red. “I don’t think it’s funny at all.” Red swallowed, off-balance. This was. Unexpected.

“Any idea what we should do with our captive?”

Red looked between them, his soul starting to buzz. “uh, boss? i, uh, i changed my mind. this ain’t funny anymore.” He squirmed a bit, trying to pull free of the silk ribbon or slip off the construct. _Something_. “stars on fire,” he muttered under his breath, eyeing them balefully, “i knew lettin’ you two meet was a bad idea.” Though, admittedly, he hadn’t anticipated _this_.

Edge and Blue ignored him. Blue circled him once, and Red squirmed, feeling shame clawing at his lower spine. “Can you lower him a little?” Blue asked.

“Certainly.” Boss brought the construct lower, so that Red was just barely able to touch the ground with the very tips of his phalanges, but no more than that. Red cursed under his breath, scrabbling at the floor and trying to get his footing, but to no avail.

“seriously, boss,” he snapped, “what the fuck? ya know why i did what i did, an’ ya know i ain’t sorry i did it. so what’s with all a’ this?”

Boss turned from Blue briefly to meet Red’s eyelights. He took Red by the chin and forced his gaze up and he said, slowly and deliberately, “Because I want you to know _exactly_ how helpless I felt when I woke up and realized you were gone.” Red swallowed, sweat starting to bead on his brow. He’d expected Boss to be angry, but this was a bit more than he’d really anticipated. Guilt and shame were also starting to bubble up in his soul, making him uncomfortable. He hadn’t intended Boss and Paps to be hurt by what he’d done—quite the opposite, really—but the fact was, they had been hurt. Because of him. His one rule—that Papyrus needed to be protected—and he’d managed to fail not just his own Papyrus, but Blue’s as well.

“You want down?” Boss asked, tugging on the bindings, “Then you can offer Paps, Blue, and myself a sincere apology. That’s all it will take.”

Red sneered, even as he felt that shame take root and sprout. He was so, so very sorry. He’d caused his brother and Paps pain, and disrupted Blue’s happy, cheerful universe. Boss really would let him go if he apologized, too, but…Red didn’t want to be let go. He deserved whatever Boss chose to dish out. This was his penance, and he would accept it. Not meekly, though. Fuck that. “yeah? that all? well then, hope yer prepared to wait a while, ‘cause i already told ya. i. ain’t. sorry.”

Boss sighed. “Fine. If that’s how you want it. Blue?”

Wait. What? “Yes?”

“You remember what we discussed? He’s quite delicate. Take care not to harm him.”

“Of course. He won’t like this,” Blue said, with a surprising gleam in his eyelights, “but I won’t hurt him.”

“Then you may proceed.” Then…Boss stepped away and went to the counter, picking up the plate. Red’s sockets were wide, and he twisted, suddenly nervous. This. This wasn’t what he’d expected, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Sure, he knew Blue wouldn’t really hurt him, but—Stars, he was completely defenseless here! His control hand was disabled, and he couldn’t touch the ground and-and—

It was only when Boss caught his throat and said, “Easy, runt,” that he realized he was starting to hyperventilate. “I’ll be right here. _Easy_. Nothing is going to happen without my assent.” A claw stroked the cartilage between his vertebrae, and Red leaned into the semi-painful touch. “You’re safe here. I won’t allow anything to happen to you.” Red’s breathing evened out, and he let out a shaky breath. “Would you like to apologize?” Meaning, of course, did he want to proceed? Or was he ready for his punishment to be over?

Red gazed up at his brother, his boss, knowing that all he had to do was say the word, and he’d be released. But Boss wouldn’t allow anyone near him if he didn’t trust them implicitly…and if Red could trust anyone not to harm him, couldn’t he trust Blue? Breathing evenly again, he summoned up a sneer and said, “fuck you. i ain’t got shit ta be sorry fer.”

Boss rolled his eyelights, but there was a measure of relief behind the anger. “Blue—please continue. My brother needs to be taught some manners. I’ll be eating breakfast,” he said, holding up the plate by way of explanation.

Relief washed through Red, even as he said, “oh, c’mon, boss; tha’s just cruel. ya can’t leave me _hangin’_ here an’ force me ta watch you n’ paps eat.”

“You’re so concerned with my eating habits,” Boss replied, taking Blue’s seat beside Paps, “I thought I’d give you the opportunity to monitor them.”

Red opened his mouth to reply, but Blue had reached up under his jacket to skate his phalanges down Red’s ribs. He jerked in his bonds, trying to get away but unable to do so. “fuck—no— _stars_!” he gasped, trying not to laugh, “yer—heh—yer kiddin’ me, right?” He jerked again as Blue brushed against the other side.

“Nope!” Blue said cheerfully, “You know, the thing about being a Sans, Red? I know all your ticklish spots.”

Involuntary laughter bubbled up, and Red grit his teeth, trying to pull away. “oh—no, no! stop, stop! tha’s not—tha’s not _fair_.”

“You will learn what it means to displease the Magnificent Sans,” Blue declared, doubling down.

Choking on his own laughter now, Red jumped and danced at the end of his bonds. “stop stop s t o p!” he demanded, though he didn’t sound quite so demanding when his words were broken up by uncontrolled giggling. “this ain’t—ah! no! ah-haha!—this ain’t funny!”

“it kinda is.”

“nnn—“ Red choked, then managed to say, “not helpin’, paps!”

“I’m waiting for that apology,” Boss said, actually taking a bite of his crepe. If Red wasn’t currently being tortured, he might have been relieved to see that.

“f-fuck ya both!” Red managed to say, trying to hang onto a little of his dignity, but unable.

“You have such a potty mouth,” Blue observed, “I ought to wash your mouth out with soap, mister!”

Then—“WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?”

“rus! ohthankthestars,” Red said, sagging in his bonds as Blue paused. “ya gotta help me, they’re—“

“YOU SAID YOU’D WAIT FOR ME!” Rus complained, hands on his hips as he eyed Blue and Boss.

“No,” Boss corrected him, “I said that you could help.”

Rus crossed his arms and made a _hmph_ , sound, then walked over to Red, looking him up and down. “GOOD MORNING, CHERRY. YOU SEEM TO HAVE FOUND YOURSELF IN QUITE THE BIND, NYEH HEH HEH.”

Red snorted, unable to remain unresponsive in the face of that truly magnificent pun—and from an unexpected source, too!—though Boss and Blue both complained about it. “y-yeah. ya could say that…. think ya could, i dunno…let me down?”

He barely noticed that Blue had backed off, allowing Rus access. “NOW, CHERRY, YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN PUT A STOP TO THIS AT ANY TIME. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS APOLOGIZE AND ALL WILL BE FORGIVEN.”

“We’re still having a talk, runt. Forgiveness doesn’t mean I’m just going to pretend this never happened,” Boss added, picking at his crepes but not really eating. Then Paps elbowed him slightly, and he rolled his eyes, taking another bite of food.

“YES, YES, EDGY-ME,” Rus said, waving him off without looking away from Red. “COME NOW, CHERRY. YOU’RE SORRY, AREN’T YOU?” Almost unwillingly, Red found himself nodding his agreement. “I KNEW YOU WERE. WHAT DO YOU SAY, THEN?” Rus wasn’t even projecting, and Red could sense the warmth and affection and _acceptance_ radiating off him. A large hand cupped the side of Red’s face, and he leaned into the touch. Red had no idea how he did it, but Rus had a way of looking at a monster like he could see straight through to their soul…and, most importantly, that he liked what he saw.

When Rus believed in you, it was hard not to believe in yourself too.

Feeling like his soul was in his throat, Red said, “ ‘m. ‘m sorry. fer. fer worryin’ everyone. an’…an’ fer nailin’ fish heads ta undyne’s walls. she, uh, she pro’ly didn’ deserve that.”

Boss glanced up at that, brow-bones raised. “I’m actually surprised, runt. I knew you’d eventually apologize to us, but I didn’t expect you’d apologize for what you did to Undyne.”

Red had to play this just right. Squirming, he tucked his face into the ruff of his hood. “i, uh, i may ‘ve overreacted.”

“What does that mean?”

“uh. i didn’ actually, um, read ass-gore’s note. just. ya, know. ass-umed. heh.”

Boss’s brow-bone rose. “Blue. Jacket pocket. Bring it here.”

Rus backed away so that Blue could have access. Unable to resist, Red smirked at him and said, “careful with the merchandise, blueberry. ya heard the boss—i‘m ‘delicate’.” He cackled at Blue’s hesitant expression, grinning fiercely as Blue brought the missive to Boss. Then he allowed a trace of shame and embarrassment back into his expression as Boss looked between him and the note. “it, uh,” he said, hesitantly, “it don’ say what i thought it said.”

Eyeing him strangly, Boss unrolled the scroll and read through it. He blinked, then read it again. “That is…unexpected,” he said. With the Tale-verse monsters present, there really wasn’t much more he could say.

Beside him, Paps sat up straighter and leaned over to read the missive. Boss glanced at him, then passed it over, allowing him to read it. There really wasn’t anything in there that would make the Tale-verse monsters uncomfortable. Not like the original note. “yeah,” Red said, still tucking his head into his jacket hood. “sorry, boss. i shoulda read it first, before losin’ it like that.”

Boss opened his mouth, but it was Paps that spoke. “i don’t understand,” he said, “this isn’t the original decree.” Boss and Red both froze and turned to stare at him.

“Excuse me?” Boss asked after a few moments of silence.

“uh.” Paps squirmed a little. “look, i know i shouldn’t have. i should have minded my own business, but—“

“The point, Swapshit. Get to the point.”

“this isn’t the original missive.”

Slowly, Edge turned to look back at Red, and if Red thought he was in trouble before, he knew he was in deep shit now.

He hadn’t had a choice, though. He couldn’t face his brother in the Judgment Hall again. Not for a fight with Undyne that had been Red’s fault in the first place. He. Just. Couldn’t. So he’d crept out early in the morning, earlier than even Boss would wake, and gone to Underfell. Red was probably the only monster other than the exiled Queen and the King’s Guard that could be said to know the King and his habits. He’d known that Asgore would be awake at that hour, that he would be tending his garden and drinking tea. Typically, only trusted members of the King’s Guard would be privy to the King’s more private moments. As his Judge, though, Red was considered to be something of an extension of the King’s will. His right hand.

(Red hated himself for that, and Asgore doubly so. By taking him on as Judge, Asgore had made Red complicit in all his wrongdoing. To the Underground at large, that made him a target—a focus for all the monsters’ righteous rage at their King. But Red was smaller and more vulnerable. The scapegoat easily in reach, easy to take swipes at, easy to degrade and mock. While the goat on the throne could remain above it all, distant and terrifying and too dangerous to strike back at.)

The King’s Guard let him in, though they’d played with him a bit first, mocking his low stats and asking where his ‘guard dog’ was holed up. They weren’t afraid to let him in to see the King unescorted. Even with his KR and his teleportation, Red was no match for the King. His HP was just too high; he’d be able to outlast Red and his poor stamina, if it came to a fight. Besides, Asgore would only need to get lucky once, assuming he didn’t just call in his guard. No, Red wasn’t stupid enough to make an attempt on the King.

He was there to negotiate.

And his negotiations had paid off. He’d walked away with a new missive—a strongly worded chastisement and a fine. But Boss wouldn’t have to kneel before him in the Judgment Hall, and Red wouldn’t have to pretend to enjoy hurting him, pretend that it was payback for Boss’s rough treatment of him. And the price? Well….

Red would do anything for his brother. The price wasn’t important.

Red had already laid a trail for Boss to follow, knowing that he would go searching as soon as he noticed Red was gone. He’d planted the first seeds the night before, when he’d discussed trying to take down Undyne, though he knew Boss would never go for it. The next piece had been speaking to the Dogi, asking about the fish market. Hopefully, though, the Swap brothers would be able to stall him for while. It would be best if Boss didn’t follow him at all.

As for his little ‘prank’ (threat) on Undyne? It would make a nice—heh—red herring. Besides, he wasn’t exactly happy with her for what she’d done to his Boss. This whole mess was just as much her fault as Red’s. From his scouting yesterday, he knew that she was staying with Alphys, so there was no chance she’d interrupt him.

He’d had no other option. Asgore would have demanded he take off several hundred HP, since Boss had such high HoPe in the first place. The whole process might have taken half a day or longer. Half a day of what was, essentially, slow torture. Red just. Couldn’t. Not again. Not for this.

Boss was never supposed to find out, though. Boss was just supposed to assume he’d gone off in a snit and torn up Undyne’s house a little. Boss was never supposed to learn the truth, and Red wasn’t supposed to be interrupted by Muffet’s spiderlings, and Paps certainly wasn’t supposed to be involved in this whole mess. Everything had just spiraled so far out of his control. He’d thought he’d managed to salvage one good thing from the mess, though. Just one: the altered missive. But now—

Boss stood and stormed out of the room. The front door slammed a few seconds later. Sagging in his bonds, Red shut his sockets against the welling tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for: non-graphic description of torture, mild weight-shaming, non-sexual BDSM, non-sexual tickle-torture (unrelated to the first trigger), consensual power imbalance, unhealthy mindsets regarding self-worth. 
> 
>  
> 
> Shoutout to Askellie for suggesting a Red POV chapter. I really think it added to the story, so thank you for that!


	24. Hard conversations and unpleasant thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paps really doesn't want to think or talk about any of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in the end notes. The chapter is mostly safe...but there's a big, glaring issue that I find rather upsetting, so read the warning if there's themes you have trouble with.

As soon as the door slammed, Blue darted out of the room to follow Edge. Rus caught Red around the middle and pulled him free of the construct to set him on the counter, fussing over him immediately. Meanwhile, Paps was frozen by indecision. Did he go after Edge? Or did he stay here with Red?

Red made that decision for him. “what the fuck, stretch?” he demanded, dodging Rus’ fussing to slip off the counter and stalk toward Paps. Despite the gleam of tears gathering in his sockets, Red was obviously pissed. Hands clenched at his sides, balanced on his toes and _ready_ , his trademark smile twisted into a snarl—Red looked more than ready for a fight. He looked eager for one, a true Fell monster.

Strangely, Rus—while obviously upset—didn’t seem surprised by this behavior. “CHERRY—“

Red turned to glare at him, but he faltered on seeing Rus’ expression, a mix of sorrow and hurt. Red’s fists unclenched and he sagged, covering his sockets with his hands. “can ya? can ya jus’…go fer a bit, creampuff? i. i don’t.” He took a shuddering breath and fell suddenly silent, unable or unwilling to continue.

“I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA,” Rus said, pulling out a chair and guiding Red over to sit. “ARE YOU HUNGRY? THERE ARE MUFFINS FROM YESTERDAY. WOULD YOU LIKE ONE?”

Red put his hands on the table, staring at them blankly. He didn’t respond to Rus. Instead, still not looking at Paps, he said, “yer the older brother, ain’t ya?”

With one last glance at the kitchen door, Paps took a seat at the kitchen table. “yeah. you know that.”

“an’ ya read the original decree?” he asked, still staring at the table.

“CHERRY—“

“no,” Red said, “i gotta talk ta ‘im. we gotta get this settled. now. before it _festers_.” Only then did he look up and meet Paps’ eyelights. “ya read it?”

Paps flinched, fiddling with his lighter again. “i read it,” he admitted. “i took it when edge was—“ He gestured amorphously, unable to properly describe the scene he’d witnessed between Edge and Red a couple days prior. His first true glimpse into the Fell brothers’ lives, his first hint of understanding. “you were both being so cryptic. i just…” He flinched again. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have taken it. i shouldn’t have read it. it was invasive and-and—“

“i don’ give a shit why ya took it,” Red said sharply, “an’ you an’ yer apologies can fuck off. i wanna know why ya’d tell boss i’d switched ‘em. ya _know_ what the original said. ya _know_ what i’d a’ had ta do. ya _know_ why i did what i did. so why would ya tell ‘im?” His voice cracked on the last syllable, and Paps hugged himself, folding inward.

The truth was, if he’d thought about it, he wouldn’t actually have said anything to Edge. But Edge was right; sometimes, he just didn’t think before he spoke. “i’m sorry. it just. it popped out. you’re right. i shouldn’t have said anything. i’m so sorry.”

Red stared him down for a few seconds longer before sighing and looking away, the anger draining out of him. To their surprise, though, it was Rus that replied. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU TWO. ESPECIALLY YOU, LAZY-ME. YOU’RE A PAPYRUS. I THOUGHT YOU’D UNDERSTAND THIS.”

“what?” they both asked, nearly simultaneously.

Rus sighed and sat down. “RED. I DON’T FULLY UNDERSTAND WHAT’S GOING ON HERE. I KNOW THAT. AND, KNOWING YOU TWO, YOU’RE NOT GOING TO TELL ME, ARE YOU?” Well, that was an emphatic ‘no’. When they said as much, though, Rus nodded despite the hurt in his eyelights. “I DIDN’T THINK SO.” There was a surprising note of bitterness in Rus’ voice, something Paps had never expected to hear from the sweeter skeleton. “HALF THE PIECES MAY BE MISSING,” Rus said, grinning—and there was more than a trace of Edge’s ferocity in that expression. They’d presented him with a challenge, and Rus was going to meet it head-on. “BUT I CAN STILL GET THE PICTURE, IF I PUT THEM TOGETHER.”

Paps couldn’t help it. “rus, was that a pun?”

“NO, LAZY-ME. IT’S A METAPHOR. PLEASE KEEP UP.” He pointed to Red. “YOU’RE TRYING TO PROTECT YOUR BROTHER. BY LYING TO HIM.” Red opened his mouth, about to protest. Then Rus raised a brow-bone, waiting. Red shut his mouth. “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT. AND IT COST YOU SOMETHING, DIDN’T IT? OR YOU PUT YOURSELF AT RISK TO DO SO?”

The two older brothers blinked, then Paps fixed his gaze on Red. As far as he’d been able to tell, the missive was genuine. It had to be, or the gesture was pointless. His sockets went wide as the realization struck him. “red…? you made a deal with asgore?”

“shut up,” Red snapped at him, “you’d ‘a done the same, an’ ya know it.”

But…what was the price? Not for the first time, he really wished he didn’t have his newfound understanding of Underfell. It allowed him to imagine a myriad of unpleasant scenarios—

_(Edge on his knees. “Well? Just manifest something so I can get you off and be done with it.”)_

_(Muffet sitting on Edge’s lap, two hands on his ilium and one on his spine. Squeezing. Stroking. “What would you do to get your brother back?”)_

His soul churned, threatening to expel some of the magic he’d just ingested, but Paps turned his head to the side, back of his hand pressed to his mouth, and breathed deeply and evenly. Did he dare ask for the price? Did he want to know? With another lurch of his soul, he decided that, no, he didn’t want to know. He lowered his hand to his sternum and pressed into the bite mark, relaxing into the pain. Thankfully, either Red and Rus didn’t notice his distress or they’d assumed he was just upset over what Red had done.

Which, really, wasn’t wrong.

While he didn’t want to know the price, there was one thing he did want to know. “how in the world did you guess that?” Paps asked Rus. He’d been replaying the Fell brothers’ conversation over in his head, but he couldn’t find any way that Rus could have figured that out. Hell, Rus had actually been one step ahead of him, and Rus didn’t know half the things that Paps had recently learned about the Fell-verse brothers. Though, actually, Paps was starting to wonder just how much Rus did know.

Rus shrugged. “EDGY-ME WOULDN’T BE THAT ANGRY IF IT WAS JUST THE LIE. BESIDES, RED’S A SANS—THEY DO THAT. TRY TO TAKE EVERYTHING ON THEMSELVES NO MATTER WHAT IT MIGHT COST THEM PERSONALLY.”

“hey, now,” Paps said, “that’s not necessarily….” He trailed off, actually thinking about it. He had to admit that there was at least a little truth to it. Red, of course, had already proved that point, and Razz was almost criminally independent, rejecting any kind of help or assistance no matter how minor. He acted like being given any kind of aid was personally offensive to him. And Sans? How many jobs did Sans work, exactly? And how many times had Paps asked if he was alright, noticing shadows under the smaller monster’s eyes or finding him asleep in an awkward place, only to be brushed off with a grin and a joke? Blue wasn’t like that, of course, but—

Then he thought about Blue, cleaning the house. Cooking the food. Making sure that everything was in order and taken care of. It went beyond that, though. Blue tried to take care of everyone. His entire motivation for joining the Guard was so that he could help people. Yesterday, he’d been amazing. Incredible. Even now, he’d dashed after Edge, prepared to take care of him as well. He’d long ago accepted that as just what Blue _did_ but now, he had to wonder…what kind of toll did that take? Trying to hold everything together while not just smiling, but maintaining a bright, happy disposition? Suddenly, Edge saying that he envied Blue’s strength made a lot more sense.

Red glared at him when he fell silent, and Paps shrugged. “c’mon, red. he’s got a point.”

“yeah?” Red ask, a challenge in his eyelights, “didja ever think that maybe we’re just tryna keep you lot from doin’ sumthin’ stupid? yer always runnin’ off, puttin’ yerselves at risk fer no damn reason. ya act like ya can’t get hurt, while ya treat us like we’re made a’ glass!”

“hey!” Paps protested, “that’s not true.”

“oh?” Red demanded, “an’ how, exactly, didja spend yer day yesterday? ‘cause from what i understand, you an’ boss were the ones ta come runnin’ after me. even though boss’s ribs er broken. an’ you only got 5 hp! an’ yer a tale-verse monster. seriously, i don’ know where you guys get off, gettin’ mad at me fer ‘puttin’ myself at risk’ when yer just as bad, if not worse! buncha hypocrites.”

“RED, THAT’S NOT VERY—“

“tell me i’m wrong, creampuff!”

Rus and Red locked eyes for an extended moment. Red had his chin lifted truculently, still eager for an argument, a fight. Rus just held his gaze unflinchingly, unwilling to fight him but equally unwilling to give any ground. “Only because we worry,” Rus said, “And we only worry because we care.”

Red looked stricken, almost wounded by Rus’ words. Then he ducked his head and rested his skull in his hands. He muttered something under his breath, but it was too quiet for either Papyrus to hear. Looking between them, Paps cleared his throat and said, “look. rus. there’s…there are a few things you don’t know about. i read the original decree and, honestly, i have to back red up here. he did the right thing. he’s right—in his position, i’d have done the same. i mean…there are no good options.” Except coming to live with in one of the Tale verses, but he wasn’t sure if now was the time to bring that up. “but this is the best solution. i don’t _like_ it—how could i?—but…i don’t think he had any other choices here.”

Red looked at him, giving an affirmative nod and a slight smile. Rus just sighed. “LAZY-ME, WHAT KIND OF PAPYRUS ARE YOU? WOULD YOU WANT YOUR SANS TO BE HURT FOR YOUR SAKE? NO? OF COURSE NOT.” He turned his attention back to Red. “EDGY-ME DOESN’T WANT THAT EITHER. NONE OF US DO.”

Red and Paps looked at each other, knowing that there was a big piece of the puzzle that Rus was missing. Knowing also that they couldn’t tell him. “look, creampuff, ya don’ understand. there’s…” Red started to say, but Rus held up a hand to stop him.

“PLEASE, CHERRY, DON’T. IF THERE’S THINGS YOU’RE NOT WILLING TO TELL ME, THAT’S FINE. I MAY NOT LIKE IT, BUT I CAN ACCEPT IT. BUT DON’T INSIST THAT I WOULD AGREE WITH YOU, IF I ONLY KNEW THE FULL STORY. EDGY-ME OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T AGREE WITH YOU, SO I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU THINK I WOULD.”

“he’s bein’ an idiot!” Red burst out, throwing up his hands, “an’ yer not an idiot. i don’ know how he expects me ta—“ Red cut himself off, choking on his words. Breathing deep, he put his skull in his hands and shook his head. “creampuff. there ‘r things i just. i can’t do. this is one ‘a ‘em. i knew he woulda been stupid about it, so i…i did what i had ta do. he’ll cool off eventually. he always does.”

Rus surveyed him and sat back, shaking his head. “YOU LIED TO HIM; YOU BROKE HIS TRUST. HE MAY CALM DOWN, BUT IT WILL TAKE A GREAT DEAL OF TIME TO EARN THAT BACK.” Red looked wounded by Rus’ words, curling in further on himself. Rus reached out to pet his skull. “AN APOLOGY WILL HELP, CHERRY. A SINCERE ONE.”

“i said it before—i ain’t sorry,” Red grumbled.

Rus sighed, but continued to pet Red’s skull and upper back. “THEN I CAN’T HELP YOU.”

“can ya just…i dunno…keep doin’ that?”

Rus’ smile gentled. “YES, CHERRY. I CAN DO THAT.”

Red turned slightly, so that he was able to eye Paps. “an’…stretch? can ya…can ya go find ‘im? make sure he’s not doin’ something stupid. i don’ want ‘im ta…ta hurt himself er sumthin’. stubborn bastard likes ta pretend he ain’t injured, even if he can barely stand.”

“no problem, kiddo. blue’s looking after him, but he could probably use the help. edge is…a handful.”

Red snorted. “ya shoulda seen ‘im when he was a kid. couldn’ keep the little terror outta trouble. always tryna make friends with fuckin’ everything. like he wasn’t walkin’ exp. thought my soul was gonna burst from fear more’n once. the little shit.” Despite his harsh words, there was a definite fondness in his smile. Maybe that’s why Rus didn’t chastise him. Then Red sobered, remembering their current circumstances. “an’…paps?”

“yeah, kid?”

“ya remember what i said before, right? the night before i…ran my errand?”

Paps swallowed. _(“you’ll make ‘im soft, paps, an’ he can’t afford that.”)_ “i remember.”

“an’ ya remember yer promise, right?”

He flinched. _(“i promise i won’t do anything that risks your or edge’s safety.”)_ “yeah.”

“good. don’ do anything stupid, stretch. er we’re gonna have more’n words, you an’ me. capiche?”

“yeah. i, uh, i understand.”

“GOOD,” Rus said, “BECAUSE I DON’T.”

“don’ worry about it, creampuff.”

“yeah, rus. it’s nothing.”

For an instant, Rus looked suddenly very, very tired. Then it was gone, and Paps had to assume he’d imagined that expression. “ALRIGHT, THEN. LAZY-ME? ARE YOU GOING TO GO FIND BLUE AND EDGY-ME?”

“yeah. i’ll go see if I can find them.” He stood and turned to leave, but paused in the doorway to ask, “hey, rus? if you were angry with sans and left to go cool off…where would you go?”

Rus smiled at him, looking genuinely amused by the question. “I’D PROBABLY GO RECALIBRATE MY PUZZLES. THAT ALWAYS CALMS ME DOWN.”

“thanks, rus.” He opened the kitchen door and stepped through, going still and stiff when it shut behind him, revealing Sans. Who was just. Standing there. Leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets and his smile particularly enigmatic. “holy fucking stars, sans,” he said, “don’t _do_ that. be glad i’m not edge or razz. you’d probably be missing a limb.”

“sorry, buddy,” Sans said, “i heard the door slam, and came down to see what the ruckus was all about.” He jerked a thumb at the front door. “so? what happened? uh, ‘edgy-me’ seems upset.”

Paps couldn’t help but grin at that. “who do you mean? red or the edgelord?”

“both, i guess,” Sans said, returning the grin.

They sobered a little as Paps looked between Sans and the front door, his hands in his hoodie pocket to play with his lighter. “walk with me?” Paps asked, “i’ll explain, but i told red i’d make sure his bro wasn’t doing anything stupid.”

For an instant, Sans hesitated, eyeing the kitchen door. Then he shrugged and peeled away from the wall. “yeah. sure, buddy. lead on.” Paps maintained a neutral expression, though he was a little surprised that Sans had agreed so readily. He paused at the door to slip on his shoes, then held open the front door for Sans. For a little while, they walked in comfortable silence, and Paps almost automatically pulled out a cigarette and lit up, offering the pack to Sans with a raised brow-bone. Sans shook his head. “nah. thanks, but i really don’t want another lecture.”

Paps laughed. “yeah. it really burns blue up when he sees me smoking.”

Sans’ grin broadened. “doesn’t seem the type to have a fiery temper, but i’ll take your word for it.”

“nah. he’s just got a couple pet peeves that get him hot under the collar. you know how it is.” They shared a fond look. Paps looked away, smoke trailing from his mouth and nose. “so,” he began, “how much did you hear?”

“just that my bro has some pretty strong opinions about sans-es. and everything after.”

They walked in silence for a bit while Paps considered that. “you want to talk about that? what rus said?”

“nope,” Sans said with finality.

Well. Alright then. “so,” Paps started, “how much do you want to know, then?”

“how ‘bout everything? i’m getting kinda tired of being kept in the dark, you know?”

Paps considered that, silently thinking about his own Sans. All the things Paps didn’t tell him. All the secrets he kept. “hey, sans?” The smaller skeleton eyed him, brow-bone raised. “do you ever…keep things from rus? ‘cause you know it’d just hurt him? i mean, if they can’t do anything about it, and it’s just going to upset them, then why—“

“why tell them?”

“yeah.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. Then, with a sigh, Sans said, “yeah. there are some things he just…doesn’t need to know. right?”

Again, they continued on in silence, but it wasn’t an easy, comfortable silence. “right,” Paps said, but more hesitantly. “do you ever wonder—?”

“if that’s the right thing to do?”

“yeah.”

Sans shrugged but said, “all the time. then i take a good long look at edge, and remember that there’s a reason i don’t tell rus everything. papyrus— _my_ papyrus—sees the best in everyone, and he’s so full of hope. he doesn’t deserve to have that taken from him, right? and he deserves to be happy. so, yeah. if i have to keep a few secrets? isn’t it worth it?”

Paps took another drag on the cigarette. “and do you ever wonder…if they’re actually happy?” He thought of Blue and his bright, cheerful demeanor. “or if they just keep smiling for our sake?”

Sans squeezed his sockets shut and took a shuddering breath. “paps. don’t. i can’t. i can’t think about that. ‘course rus is happy. i’d know if—he’d _tell me_ if he wasn’t. i keep stuff from him, but he doesn’t—“ Their gazes met, and Sans cursed under his breath. “changed my mind. cigarette me?” Paps obligingly passed the pack and the lighter over, not too surprised. Red was much more likely to join him in this particular vice, but Sans was occasionally persuaded when he was upset or stressed out. For several minutes, they walked in total silence, thinking. Or, in Paps’ case, trying very hard not to.

“okay, stretch,” Sans finally said, using Red’s nickname for him, “you said you’d explain. explain.”

Paps held his breath for a moment, allowing the smoke to swirl around his ribcage, confined by magic. It burned and it made his soul sting, but in a good way. Then he exhaled, smoke leaking from his mouth and nasal passage, and said, “you want to know everything? alright. fine. but it’s a long story, and it’s. it’s not a nice story either. so. buckle up, buttercup.”

Sans laughed, smoke trailing from his jaw. “buttercup? really?”

“fuck off. you want an explanation or not?”

“sorry, sorry…i’ll _leaf_ off.”

They both snickered, but there was very little genuine amusement in their laughter. They were just trying to duck around the unpleasantness that hung over them. It was easier to avoid it than to confront it. To pretend it hadn’t happened or that it wasn’t there, but they could only do that for so long.

Paps didn’t want to share the events of the past few days with Sans—he well knew they didn’t exactly paint him in the best light. And despite Sans’ request, he couldn’t tell him the whole story, either. Some things weren’t his to tell, and some things he didn’t care to reveal to anyone. For a few minutes, he wasn’t even sure where to begin or how to start, but eventually, he figured that the beginning would be the best place. “So,” he said, “a few days ago, Red appeared on our doorstep in tears and spattered in marrow and spent magic….” He described Edge’s initial injuries, and how Blue and Red had worked on him. Then, voice low and face averted, he told Sans about the deal. He didn’t say what Edge had initially offered, though, sparing the other Papyrus’ dignity.

Nonetheless, Sans stared at him hard, eyelights out. “p a p s—“

“just listen, okay? i know. i _know_. i fucked up. you don’t need to beat me up about it…i’ve done plenty of that myself the last two days, alright?”

Sans settled down, but displeasure radiated off of him. “alright,” he said, “keep talking.”

So Paps continued, describing Red’s reluctance to leave his brother while he was injured and the call Edge had received later, how Red had been upset and didn’t sound like himself. He didn’t say that Red had threatened to cut some poor kid’s hand off. Sans and Red already had their issues; Sans didn’t need another reason to dislike Red. Paps skimmed over the exchange he’d witnessed between Edge and Red following that phone call. That had been a private moment, and Paps would not reveal more than necessary.

“while edge was comforting red,” Paps said, “i…i found a scroll in red’s jacket pocket. it seemed to be the reason that red was so upset. edge knew about it—he asked about it—but he didn’t read it, didn’t ask to see it. i was curious.” He was _nosy_. “so i…took it.”

“stars above, paps. seriously?”

“i know, okay? i know! but. what it said—“ By now, his initial cigarette had burnt out, so he lit another one, taking a long drag off it. “they were orders for edge to report to the hall. for judgement.”

Sans went still and stiff. “no,” he said, shaking his head. “ _no_.” At Paps’ expression, Sans’ sockets went wide and he reached into his inventory, fumbling for a ketchup bottle. “stars above,” he said, after taking a long drink. “okay. so. what’d red do? he’s not going to—? edge is his brother, i know things aren’t always…good between the two of them, but red wouldn’t—“

“no,” Paps agreed, “he wouldn’t. that’s why he was so upset, when he called. he was pretty…upset that night, too, now that i think about it. sort of…off, being really protective of edge, too. he was probably planning on going to underfell even then.” Sans eyed him, waiting for him to continue. “far as i can tell? red went to his asgore to make a deal. apparently, that’s a _thing_ with fell monsters. i don’t know. anyway, he got the decree repealed, and a new missive in its place. just. a fine and a…honestly, a pretty harsh chastisement. i don’t think i’ve ever seen that kind of language in an official document, let alone ever heard tori use it.”

“i don’t really see why the edgelord’s got his panties in a twist, though. it doesn’t sound like red really did anything wrong. i mean—he’s just looking out for his bro.”

Paps considered the cigarette between his phalanges. “that’s how you and i—and obviously, red—see things. i don’t think edge and rus see it the same way, and i honestly have no idea how blue would see it. besides, you still haven’t heard the rest of the story.” He paused, realizing that he would now have to actually tell the rest of the story. “so.” Paps looked away, pressing his thumb into the mark on his sternum, “edge and i…went to go get him.”

Sans froze and stared at him. “you went to underfell?”

“you’ve been there too, right?” Paps asked, “you’re the one that fixed their machine, aren’t you?”

“yeah, but—i landed in their basement. didn’t spend more than ten minutes outside before knocking on their door. that first meeting was…interesting, but once we got everything sorted out, edge made me promise to stay inside and made red promise to keep me there. took four days to fix the machine, but i never saw more than the inside of their house.”

Suddenly, curiosity made Paps ask, “what’s their house like? i never went inside.” Then again, to judge from Edge’s words, the present state of their house probably wasn’t what it was like ordinarily.

“uh…clean? even red’s room is clean. it’s. it’s weird,” Sans said, shrugging.

Paps snickered. “yeah. that sounds about right.” He realized that he’d been stalling, and told Sans about Red’s prank, how he had probably been using it as a cover for his real intentions.

He was not prepared for Sans to start laughing. “stars on fire,” he said, bent over as he laughed, “he—he nailed fish heads to undyne’s _wall_? by the angel, that’s—stars alight, he really—?“ He cut off, wheezing. “oh stars, i can’t breathe.”

“don’t let edge see you laughing like that. he was pissed,” Paps said, but he too was smiling.

“felldyne’s the one that broke his ribs?” Sans asked, a gleam in his socket. When Paps nodded, then Sans shrugged. “then she’s lucky he’s not my brother. i’d have done worse.”

“that’s what i said.” They shared a look, both of them grinning. He’d managed to forget the humor of the situation, after everything that had happened. But even though he found he actually kind of liked Edge’s Undyne…he was still pretty upset about what she’d done to Edge. Even if Edge had cut off her hand.

Sans didn’t need to know that, though.

“so?” Sans prompted when Paps didn’t continue. “didn’t you guys meet red on his way back from undyne’s? if it were me, i’d have tried to intercept my bro _before_ he’d seen what i’d done.”

Paps blinked. He really hadn’t thought about it before, but yeah—it was kind of weird that Red hadn’t simply teleported back to the machine after he’d finished his prank. But it made sense now. If he’d taken the time to lay a false trail for Edge, knowing that Edge was going to try to track him down, then of course he’d want to be there to meet him on the way back. Edge couldn’t teleport, and Red wouldn’t have thought his brother would be bringing Paps along with him. “well,” Paps said, “red got…intercepted.”

Sans waited, but Paps hesitated. He fell silent and looked at the ground, trying to control his breathing. “apparently, uh, fell-verse muffet runs a gang. and, uh. she.” He swallowed, unable to speak. He could feel the words, hovering at the back of his mouth. The things he needed to say, but…couldn’t.

“paps?”

He shook his head, not looking at Sans. Unable and unwilling to say more. How could he tell Sans what had happened? How did he describe exactly how _awful_ she’d been? How did he say that he’d just _walked away_ when Edge had been in trouble? And he couldn’t’ even think about trying to tell Sans about what had happened when Paps was on his own. He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone knowing. Not just because it was humiliating that he hadn’t been able to protect himself, but because it had affected him as deeply as it had. There was an insistent inner voice that repeatedly told him that it hadn’t been _that_ bad. He should be able to just shake it off. It was _nothing_ compared to what Edge and Red had surely suffered, growing up in Underfell. What right did he have to even be upset?

His fingers curled into the bite mark, the pain sudden and sharp. It cleared his mind, and he took a breath. “she took red. we got him back.”

“paps…?”

“don’t. don’t ask for more than that, sans. i can’t.” With that, Paps started walking again, glancing back at Sans to say, “c’mon. my bro and edge have to be around here somewhere.” He could feel Sans staring at his back, but he ignored that, scanning the snowy landscape for signs of the other two skeletons. Blue’s first puzzle was coming up, but he hadn’t even seen footprints. Where in the Underground were—?

He was not prepared for a panel beneath his foot to depress and suddenly turn a bright, vibrant blue. Staring at it, he cursed under his breath. Sans walked up beside him and looked between him and the glowing panel. “welp,” he said, grinning broadly, “guess we found ‘em, right?”

Sure enough, with an enthusiastic “Mweh heh heh!” Blue burst out of the tree line, nearly vibrating with excitement. He pointed at his brother and declared, “Look what we’ve caught in our trap, Edge!”

With a touch more restraint—but grinning smugly nonetheless—Edge walked up behind Blue to survey the scene. “It appears to be a pair of good-for-nothing lazybones.” Well, at least he didn’t appear to be pissed off anymore. Then again, it was kind of hard to tell with Edge. He’d proven this morning that he was more than happy to hold on to his anger and wait for the perfect moment to unleash it.

Sans raised a hand. “uh? not to argue or anything, but i’m not trapped.”

“and i can just teleport away,” Paps said, trying to decide if he was annoyed or amused.

Blue stomped his foot. “ _Papy_ ,” he whined, “Come on! I need to practice if I’m going to be ready for a human!”

Sans was shaking with restrained laughter beside him. “yeah. come on, papy. can’t you help your bro practice?” Paps had to hold back his own laughter, finally settling on amused.

“alright, alright,” he said, lighting another cigarette. “what do i need to do?”

“Put out the cigarette for one,” Edge said, arms crossed. He may look calmer now, but he had apparently stormed out without grabbing a coat.

“cripes, edgelord,” Paps said, “aren’t you cold? i know your hp is still low—don’t you want a jacket or something?”

“That’s what I said!” Blue replied, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “I brought a hoodie for—“

“The Great and Terrible Papyrus does not require a jacket!” Edge snapped, holding himself stiffly.

Sans ducked his head, trying not to laugh. “stars,” he said, for Paps’ benefit alone, “i’m starting to feel sorry for red.”

Paps took the cigarette away from his mouth. “tell you what,” he said, “i’ll play along, but only if the edgelord puts something on. i’m honestly getting cold just looking at him.”

Blue turned to Edge and even from that distance, Paps could tell he was using the puppy-dog eyelights. “Please, Edge! I really need to practice!” Edge crossed his arms and looked away, but with a sigh, he held out a hand, obviously grumbling under his breath. Blue did a little dance in place before pulling a familiar hoodie from his inventory and passing it over, his eyelights bright and starry.

Edge hesitated before slipping the hoodie on, though. Pointing at Paps he said, “You make one crack about this and I’m done. Got it? I’ve had enough of your fucking flirting.”

While Blue exclaimed over his language, Sans eyed Paps with raised brow-bones. “flirting, huh? somehow you didn’t mention _that_. though i did wonder why you two were being so nice to each other. it was starting to weird me out.”

Paps rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, ignoring the warm flush of magic heating his cheekbones. “i didn’t think it was relevant. also, you have a strange definition of the word ‘nice’.” Clearing his throat, he asked the more excitable skeletons, “so? how do i do this?”

“If we told you,” Edge said, “it wouldn’t be a puzzle, would it?”

“We can give hints, though!”

Edge rolled his eyelights. “No hints,” he said firmly, “They pass or fail on their own.”

“But what if they get stuck? It’s no fun if they get stuck.”

“It’s not supposed to be fun for them!” Edge said, exasperated. The two started to bicker while Paps and Sans watched, amused. Paps took a moment to text Red, to let him know that they’d found Edge and that he was fine, before he took another step, trying to figure out what the blue tiles meant.

When Paps had finally made it through that puzzle, Blue darted away, exclaiming that they needed to try the next one because he’d made a few modifications to it. Edge watched him dash off, almost smiling once more. He caught Paps’ elbow before he could follow his brother, though. “Rus is keeping an eye on the runt?” he asked.

Sans looked up at him, hands in his pockets and grinning. “worried, edgelord?”

“Just wanted to make sure the little moron didn’t wander off again,” he said, “What about you? I’m surprised to see you here. Aren’t you afraid they’re fucking on the kitchen table or something?”

Sans’ eyelights went out, and he exhaled slowly. “no. no i was not. why? should i be? you know something i don’t?”

“Relax,” Edge said, rolling his eyelights. “Rus wouldn’t do that. It’s completely unsanitary. People eat there.” Paps snickered, covering his face. “What are you laughing at?”

Paps considered not telling him. But—“red certainly would. eat there.”

It took them both a second, and then Edge made a disgusted face while Sans went completely still. “excuse me,” he said, “i’m going to—“

Edge caught him around the middle and threw him over his shoulder on his uninjured side. “Oh, no you don’t,” he said, following Blue. “You and I are going to have a discussion; I want to know _exactly_ why you seem to think the runt’s not good enough for your brother. So? Start talking, short-stuff.”

“i thought you were mad at him,” Sans said, trying to squirm out from under Edge’s grip and making absolutely no progress. “shouldn’t you be on my side here?”

Edge rolled his eyelights. “Oh, I’m not just mad at him. I’m fucking furious, but that’s beside the point. Half the reason the little idiot does shit like this is because he doesn’t—“ Edge went quiet, and he took a breath. For a moment, his features lost their hardness, and he looked like he was in pain. Slowly, Paps realized that Edge wasn’t actually angry with Red, no matter what he may claim. Or at least, his anger was only covering up another emotion. Then his expression hardened once more and he said, sharply, “Your brother is one of the few things that make the runt genuinely happy. One of the few things he actually _cares_ about. If you think I’m going to stand back and watch you fuck that up, then you’re not half as smart as I thought you were.”

“aw, edgelord, was that a compliment?” Paps silently congratulated Sans on dodging the issue. Very nicely done.

“No,” Edge said, “I just assumed you at least had the intelligence of a froggit, but I’m willing to concede that I may have been mistaken.”

“still too smart to be your toady,” Sans quipped.

Edge groaned aloud. “One more pun,” he said, “and I drop you.”

“well, in that case, thanks for the—“

“Off a cliff.”

Sans shut his mouth. Paps grinned. “the lift?” he asked. Sans grinned back at him, while Edge facepalmed.

“Damnit, Swapshit. Don’t help him.”

“what else am i supposed to do? flirting’s been banned. all i’ve got left are puns. and knock knock jokes. hey, do you wanna hear a—?”

“Blue!” Edge yelled, “Get your ass back here! You left me all alone with two thirds of the idiot squad.”

“ouch,” Sans said, “that actually kinda hurts.”

“Oh, please. Don’t even tell me you Tale-verse monsters can’t handle an insult or two.”

“nah,” Sans said, “your shoulder’s just a little _bony_.”

“yeah, we’ve actually got pretty thick skin.” A few seconds later, Edge stormed off again, still yelling for Blue. Sans was on the ground, face down in the snow. Paps stopped beside him. “you okay?”

Sans sat up, rubbing his bruised sternum. “yeah. i just didn’t think he’d actually drop me.”

“coulda been worse,” Paps pointed out. “at least there weren’t any convenient cliffs nearby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: references to sexual coercion, non-explicit references to Paps' experience from Ch. 16. There is also internalized victim shaming, which I actually find highly upsetting. If you want to avoid the latter, then skip the passage between "paps?" and "paps...?"
> 
> Skip the note below to avoid semi-spoilers for this chapter. If you've already read the chapter, then please continue.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Okay, so please note that I in no way share Paps' thoughts on what happened to him. Everyone experiences suffering in life, and suffering is highly subjective. It is not a sign of weakness to be upset by your experiences, even if other people have "had it so much worse". You are entitled to those feelings, whatever you've experienced. And it's not a sign of weakness to ask for help either, even if you think that you "shouldn't have to". Real strength is sometimes having the self-awareness to recognize that you need a helping hand. 
> 
> Sorry. I had to get that off my chest. Like I said, the internalized victim shaming really bothered me.
> 
> (Also, a thank you to my lovely readers, particularly those who commented on this chapter. I initially was very unhappy with it, but your comments and feedback have changed my opinion. So, thank you very much!)


	25. Technically, it's a rhizome.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge does not want to talk, and Sans probably shouldn't have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor references to domestic violence and events from Chapter 16.

As they walked back, Edge and Blue talked animatedly about different trap techniques and mechanisms—as well as the underlying schools of thought and philosophies regarding such ancient traditions. Edge was trying very hard not to get too excited about it, but honestly, he probably sounded a lot more like Rus than usual, since puzzle making was a long-held passion of his, and not one he was really able to discuss very often. Red could sometimes be forced to listen, but he just made annoying puns and jibes until Edge eventually got annoyed enough to walk away. Undyne somehow felt it was ‘dishonorable’ to trap your enemies before disposing of them. How ridiculous. Puzzles were a noble and honorable monster tradition.

So it was honestly really nice to be able to discuss the intricacies of a frictionless ice puzzle or a weighted switch puzzle with someone that actually knew the history behind them! “What about the Triad Trial Theorem?” Edge asked, eyeing the smaller monster. His ribcage ached—not helped by the added weight he was carrying—but that was a minor nuisance at this point.

“Tch.” Blue waved a hand dismissively. “Pre-banishment nonsense,” Blue said firmly.

“Really? I’d have thought that would appeal to your sense of fair play.”

“Well, I never understood what’s so special about the number three,” Blue returned, “Why not four? Or eight? I mean, if the trial’s a _test_ then why limit it to just three?”

“I can’t say I disagree,” Edge said, “More puzzles are better, in my opinion.”

“Right! If they can pass three, then why not more?”

“Exactly!”

They shared a fond look, then Blue asked, “Have you read the Elder Puzzler’s Treatise on Traps?”

“Of course I have!” Edge said, offended that Blue would even ask. “What kind of monster do you take me for?!” Surprisingly, the EPTT only had very minor differences across the four universes. Puzzles, it seemed, crossed the multiversal boundaries.

“I was just checking! Sorry!” Blue held up a conciliatory hand, shifting to readjust the burden he carried. “I just wondered what you thought about his criteria for differentiating between puzzles and traps? I mean, it _is_ a little controversial….”

“stars above,” Sans said from Edge’s shoulder, “please stop. i’m actually begging you. please.”

“yeah, bro. i don’t think i can handle more puzzle talk.”

The younger brothers paused to glance at their burdens. “How long have you two been awake?” Blue asked, turning his head to regard his elder brother. The lazy skeletons had dropped off to sleep shortly after Edge and Blue had run them through one of Blue’s traps for the fifth time. One of the panels kept sticking, so it had required quite a bit of repair and several rounds of testing before they’d managed to fix it.

After finding the two lazybones asleep, Edge had suggested they just leave the pair out in the snow. It was Underswap— what could possibly happen to them? And they certainly deserved to be abandoned for their inexcusable idleness. However, Blue had just given him a Look and scooped his brother up in the most awkward piggyback that Edge had ever seen. With a put-upon sigh, Edge had picked Sans up as well—dropping him onto his shoulder none too gently. The lazy ass hadn’t even stirred, which Edge found particularly annoying. Like the older skeleton was intentionally ignoring Edge’s ungentle handling.

“oh, you know,” Paps said, “a while.”

Edge rolled his eyelights. “Then you can walk on your own.” He tried to release Sans, but the older skeleton was clinging to him now. Edge sighed. “Really?”

“what can i say?” Sans said, “i’m beat; you and blue really worked us down to the bone.”

“Yeah, well, your skeleton puns are pretty tired too,” Edge snapped, annoyed.

“Edge!” Blue said, looking betrayed while the two elder skeletons laughed uproariously.

“It just—I didn’t mean to—“ Edge sighed. “Can we just pretend I didn’t say that?”

“oh no,” Sans said, and from his tone, Edge could tell he was grinning. “you are never gonna live that down.”

Paps was still snickering. “you should have heard what he said when—“ Then he cut himself off, losing his joviality. Both Sans-es looked at him, concerned, but Edge thought he knew what Paps was thinking of. _(“That joke’s in rather poor taste, wouldn’t you say?”)_ “never mind,” the Tale-verse monster said. “it. it really wasn’t that funny.”

No. It wasn’t. Searching for something to divert attention from Paps, Edge shifted his shoulder, redistributing Sans’ weight. “There’s no possible way you’re this heavy from eating your brother’s cooking,” he complained, though Sans really wasn’t that heavy. Ordinarily, Edge would be able to carry _Undyne_ with no problem—and had been forced to in the past, when his Captain was injured or unconscious—but his damaged ribcage and punctured spine were complicating matters. Also, he’d heard that crack about Red’s weight, and he wasn’t above taking petty revenge on his brother’s behalf.

It didn’t matter that thinking about his brother at the moment made his soul feel like it was going to shatter.

“hey, i’m just—“

“If you say big-boned, I’ll ask your brother to make lunch for everyone.” Rus had an uncanny ability to transform food into something that in no way resembled food, while still remaining entirely edible. It was actually rather impressive. Edge could almost admire him for that—even in failure, Rus aspired to Greatness. Then again, Edge was used to choking down his meals. Eating Rus’ cooking was almost easier than normal food; if he concentrated, he could actually convince himself he wasn’t really eating at all.

He was not, however, prepared for Sans to pinch the cartilage between his cervical vertebrae. He slapped Sans’ hand away, trying to glare at the other skeleton. It was rather difficult to glare at someone when their head was hanging somewhere around his scapula, though. “The hell was that for?” he demanded.

“what are you implying?” Sans asked, a slight edge to his voice.

Everyone turned to stare at him. “dude,” Paps said, “you’re joking right?”

“Yeah,” Blue said, “I mean. I love Rus. I do, but….” Blue squirmed, unwilling to criticize his friend.

Edge rolled his eyelights. “Rus can’t cook to save his life,” he said bluntly, and hissed when Sans retaliated by pinching his vertebrae again. “Stop doing that, you little—“

“s t o p t a l k i n g b a d a b o u t m y b r o t h e r .”

“Stars above,” Edge muttered under his breath. “Now you’re just being stupid,” he said more loudly, “You realize that with some honest criticism, Rus could improve, right? By protecting his ego, you’re just—STOP PINCHING ME, YOU JACKASS!”

“if one of you says anything bad about my bro’s cooking, i will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Rubbing his neck, Edge glared at nothing since he couldn’t glare at Sans. “Congratulations,” he said, “you are officially the most annoying creature in this universe. You should be proud. It’s quite an accomplishment. You had some very steep competition.”

“hey!” Paps complained, and Edge smiled slightly. He was wondering if the other Papyrus would pick up on the implied insult.

“While we’re on the subject of brothers,” Edge began, laying a restraining hand over Sans’ spine. No way was the runt teleporting out of this. “You never did tell me why you seem to think my brother isn’t good enough for yours.”

“i never said—“

“You didn’t have to,” Blue chimed in, surprising everyone. Blue fell back so that he could look Sans in the eyelights. “So? I’m curious too, Sans. Why are you being so impossible about Red and Rus? They aren’t even dating.”

“Yet.”

“Yet,” Blue agreed, nonchalant, “Right now, they’re just friends, and you can’t even accept that. Why?”

“gotta say,” Paps agreed, “i’m kinda curious too.”

Edge could feel the tension in Sans’ spine, the stiffness in the way he held himself. “look,” Sans said, “i like red.” That was true enough, or at least, it had been prior to Red taking an interest in Rus. The few days Sans had been stuck in Underfell had been almost unbearable due to the japes and jokes and puns. “but…do you honestly think he and my bro are right for each other? there’s no way that’s not going to end in heartbreak. i’m just trying to make sure my bro doesn’t get hurt, okay?”

“Blue? Are you glaring at him?”

“Yes.”

“Glare harder. He’s not half as uncomfortable as he should be. Yes, that’s better. Very good.” He jostled Sans again, doing his best to approximate taking him by the shoulders and shaking him given their current arrangement. “Listen up, short-stuff. You’re going to back off, and here’s why.” He dug his claws into Sans’ spine, careful not to actually hurt him, but hard enough to make the threat clear. “Rus is a grown-ass adult, and he can make his own decisions. Even if those decisions do end up being mistakes.” Edge wasn’t going to deny the distinct possibility that Red might majorly fuck up. The runt didn’t have the best track record. “It’s not your place to decide for him.”

“Yeah!” Blue said, “Back off, you-you—“ He faltered, unsure how to finish his sentence.

“See, you backed yourself into a corner there, pipsqueak. We’re going to have to work on your technique. You can either start cursing, or you can get creative with your insults. ‘You unbearable little pissant’ is lengthy, but it conveys the appropriate contempt. Though, if I were you, I would avoid using the word ‘little’; the comebacks are too easy. Unless you’re trying to rile up Razz. In that case, feel free.”

“edge, i’m not sure i’m comfortable with you teaching my brother how to threaten and/or insult people.”

“Well, I’m not comfortable with you sharing weed and cigarettes with my brother. His health is already delicate, and you certainly aren’t helping things. So why don’t we call it even and leave it at that?”

“Papy! That’s awful! Stop encouraging the others to take up your terrible habits!”

“yeah, papy,” Sans said, sniggering, “you’re such a bad influence.”

Edge squeezed Sans’ spine. “Don’t think we forgot about you, short-stuff. Are you going to back off? Or do I need to get creative?”

Sans sighed. “look, i know you’re all concerned. and it’s sweet. it really is. ‘cause i know you guys all want Rus to be happy, just like i do. so, really, you should just let me handle this. i’m his bro; i know what’s best for him.”

Edge stopped, his entire body becoming almost preternaturally still. Carefully—almost gently—he reached back and plucked Sans off his shoulder. Dangling the smaller monster by the back of his jacket, Edge held Sans up so that they were socket to socket. “Would you care to repeat that?” he asked.

Sans swallowed and held up his hands, placating. “listen, edge, i didn’t mean it like that. it came out wrong.”

Edge’s brow-bone rose. “Oh?” he asked. Behind him, he heard Blue set Paps down, and he heard him say something, but couldn’t tell what, exactly. “Are you sure? Because I think you meant _exactly_ what you said. Do you really think so little of your brother?”

“hey—“ Sans started to protest, looking genuinely offended, but Edge just spoke overtop him.

“Do you really think he doesn’t know his own mind? Do you think he can’t foresee the consequences of his actions? You think he doesn’t know what he’s doing?”

“edge,” Paps said, quietly. “pal, you’re getting a little worked up there. maybe you should—“

“Maybe you should shut your damn honey hole!” Edge snarled, barely glancing at him before turning back to Sans. “Tell me, Sans, did you ever consider that _maybe_ your brother is capable of making his own decisions? Did you ever think that _maybe_ he knows exactly what he’s getting into?”

“i just don’t want him to get hurt—“ Sans tried, still holding up his hands.

“MAYBE HE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT GETTING HURT!” Edge bellowed, “HE CAN FUCKING TAKE IT! HE’S A NONSWAP PAPYRUS; A FEW SCRAPES AND BRUISES AREN’T GOING TO BREAK HIM! AND IF YOU’RE SO FUCKING CONCERNED, THEN HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED _TALKING_ TO HIM? YOU’RE THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN HIS FUCKING _LIFE_ , SANS—YOU THINK HE WOULDN’T LISTEN TO YOUR CONCERNS IF YOU JUST SHOWED HIM SOME FUCKING RESPECT, SAT HIM DOWN, AND HAD A DAMN CONVERSATION? DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT?!”

Breathing hard, he glared at Sans, who stared back at him with wide sockets. “Edge?” Blue asked, gazing up at him, “Are you—are you okay?”

Edge swallowed and—carefully—set Sans down. He started walking again, ignoring the older brothers’ stares. Blue fell into step beside him, but didn’t say anything. It was highly reminiscent of earlier that day, when Blue had followed him out of the house. Edge said the same thing now as he had then. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Blue’s response was the same in essence, if not in content. “Alright.” At least this time, Edge hadn’t forgotten to grab his shoes before storming out into the snow. It had been incredibly difficult to accept his boots from Blue while maintaining his angry demeanor. “So. What do you want to do now?”

Earlier, Blue had been kind enough to ask Edge if he’d like to help Blue recalibrate his puzzles. As if he even needed Edge’s help for something like that. As if he hadn’t left most of his tools inside. As if he wasn’t just trying to give Edge something to do to distract him. In another time or place, Edge may have been insulted by that, but here and now, he had just been incredibly grateful—for the offer itself and for the pretense that Blue somehow required his assistance. It was good to be needed, even if Edge knew that wasn’t actually the case.

He considered Blue’s question. “I don’t suppose punting the other Sans-es off the bridge is an acceptable activity, is it?”

“Um. No.”

“Hn. Too bad.” He considered their conversation with Sans and Paps and smirked. “Want to teach Rus how to bake?” It couldn’t possibly be more hazardous than trying to teach Undyne. The fish monster may be dangerous on the battlefield, but she was positively _deadly_ in the kitchen.

“Yeah!” Blue said, practically dancing in place, “What are we making?”

Edge smirked. “I’ve got something in mind. Come on. Where’s the store?”

When they returned to the house, groceries in hand, Paps and Sans were sitting awkwardly on the couch. Sans looked up when they came in and started to rise. Edge glanced at him once and said, “Sit your ass down. I’m not talking to you, and Rus is going to be occupied for a while.” Sans just stared at him, semi-frozen, and Edge had to roll his eyelights. At least Red didn’t go flaccid on him after a bit of yelling.

Speaking of, Red and Rus appeared in the kitchen doorway. Red’s cheeks were stained from crying, and he took a tentative step forward. “boss?”

Edge closed his eyes, his soul feeling like it was ready to break apart. “Get out of my sight. I’m not ready to talk to you yet.” He pointed at Paps. “You. Make sure the moron doesn’t run off somewhere. Got it?” Brow-bone raised, Paps nodded nonetheless.

“hey, asshole,” Red said, starting forward, and Edge’s entire body went still and stiff. He was hyper-aware of the rush of magic through his bones, the whisper of air through his nasal cavity. “maybe ya don’ wanna talk ta me, but i wanna talk ta ya.”

“Too damn bad,” Edge said, voice soft, “Should have tried that before you—“ He cut himself off to take a breath. He really was not ready to talk to Red.

“hey! ‘m jus’ tryna protect ya, ya damn idiot!”

Mouth twisted into a snarl, Edge turned to face him fully. “Excellent job, Sans,” he said, faux-sweetly, “I feel _so_ protected.” To finish the jibe, he lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing the scratches on his ilium, the puncture on his spine, and the bottommost curve of his broken ribcage. With a disgusted sound, he released the hem and turned away, ordering Blue and Rus into the kitchen.

He ignored the pained pulse of his soul and the sharp swell of regret. Red, on seeing his wounds, had crumpled—slipping to his knees, arms wrapping around his ribcage as if he were trying to hold himself together. It had been a low blow, and he knew that his words, combined with the display, were eating Red alive. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to apologize. Not yet.

It wasn’t until he and the other younger brothers were safety ensconced in the kitchen, away from prying eyes, that he realized he was shaking. Blue gently took the grocery bag from him and set it on the table. Carefully, Rus took his hand and gently pulled him forward, into what was probably the worst hug Rus had ever had. Edge couldn’t find it in himself to respond at all to the embrace—positively or negatively. He just stood stiffly, arms at his sides, while Rus held him carefully.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, “I. I yelled at your brother. I didn’t. I didn’t mean to. He was just—“ His breathing was unsteady and uneven. Not hyperventilating, but too fast and too shallow nonetheless. He focused on that, trying to slow and lengthen his inhalations.

“It may not have been the nicest way to say it,” Blue said, softly, eyes on the ground, “but he needed to hear it. Papy too. Maybe they’ll—“ The sweeter skeletons exchanged a glance, the two of them smiling sadly but hopefully nonetheless.

Rus turned back to Edge, rubbing his back gently. “WOULD YOU LIKE TO TALK ABOUT IT, EDGY-ME?”

A denial sat heavy in his mouth, but he paused suddenly and surveyed Rus. “Red didn’t tell you?”

Rus shook his head. “HE AND LAZY-ME DIDN’T THINK I NEEDED TO KNOW.” Edge glanced at Blue, though he already knew the other skeleton hadn’t been told anything. Paps and Red certainly knew. Had Paps told Sans? It wouldn’t surprise Edge if he had.

There were things about their respective universes that the Fell skeletons kept to themselves. He and Red did it, and the Swapfells certainly did it. Most especially, though, they kept things from the Tale monsters. Edge didn’t know why Razz was so closed-mouthed—Slim was just closed-mouthed in general, so it wasn’t surprising that he’d keep quiet—but he and Red had long ago decided that there were certain things the Tale skeletons just didn’t need to know. It would upset them to no purpose; their survival was not at stake, and strictly speaking, it simply wasn’t any of their business. Besides—

_(“cripes, boss; ya look like shit. what happened?”_

_“Not important.” Sockets shut. Tired and sore and hurt, but ultimately, satisfied. It had been a good day, if not without its cost. “You were in Underswap?”_

_“yeah, sorry, boss. i shoulda been here ta—“_

_“Don’t be stupid, runt. I’m fine.” Sitting up. Considering the skeleton before him. “You get on well with Swapshit and his brother?”_

_“yeah? i mean…i guess?”_

_“Good. Cultivate that relationship. I want you to have a place to go, if—“ Lying down and staring up at the ceiling. Not saying what he wanted to say. It would only upset Red, even if that was foolish; having a good exit strategy never hurt anyone. Red needed a place to go, if anything ever happened to Edge. “If you ever need a place to escape to,” he finally said, sockets closed. Today had been a good day, but it could have gone bad so easily.)_

_—_ he didn’t want any of the Tale-verse skeletons to think poorly of Red, particularly for something that wasn’t his fault. However, no matter how hard Edge had tried to keep the Fell and Tale ‘verses separate, Underfell had cast its shadow over Underswap, and Paps was not the only one to suffer for it. Blue and Rus had seen their condition, when Paps and the Fell brothers had returned from Underfell. True, some things simply weren’t for them to know—Paps’ secret belonged solely to him, and Edge didn’t even discuss Muffet with his brother—but they had been patient and kind when they had no obligation to be either of those things. They deserved an explanation, if only for that.

So, instead of denying Rus, Edge sighed and gestured to the two of them. “Go on and sit down, both of you. It’s story time.” Extracting himself from Rus’ embrace, he pulled two eggs from the grocery bag and said, “These need to be room temperature anyway.” He set them aside and started to gather the supplies they would need, laying out measuring cups and spoons, a saucepan, a cake pan, and a pair of large bowls. As he did so, he talked.

He told the two of them about Asgore and Underfell’s Judgment Hall. He told them about his brother’s role as Judge…and what it entailed. He did not speak bluntly. Rather, he tried to lay out the details as delicately as possible. It was not his intent to wound with the information. Barely glancing up as he arranged the ingredients on the table, he said, “It’s not a big deal. He’s never had to…had to take more than half my HP. Neither of us _enjoy_ it, but….” He shrugged, surveying the ingredients. _Flour. Baking soda. Baking powder. Molasses. Brown sugar…_. “We’ve all had to do things we don’t necessarily enjoy, right?” _....Salt. Cinnamon. Stout. Vegetable oil. Is that everything?_

He looked up, but the horror in their eyelights was too much for him to face. He arranged the ingredients carefully, grouping the dry ingredients together and separating the “wet” ingredients into two groups—those that needed to be heated on the stove and those that would be whisked in off the heat. “Edgy-me….” Rus said, speaking uncharacteristically quietly.

Edge, busy laying out the measuring cups, went very still. “Don’t. I said it wasn’t a big deal, and I meant it. Asgore only calls me to the Hall if—“ He took a breath. “If I do something to earn his ire. Typically, I keep my head down, and I do my best to avoid his notice. For the most part, it works.”

 _(Snowdrake with his head down. His father standing in front of him, looking up at Edge. “Don’t worry about it, Lieutenant. I promise you, I’ll make sure the boy doesn’t do anything so_ stupid _again.”_

 _“See that you don’t.” Bilious magic welling up and pooling in his mouth. Swallowing it down as he watched Snowdrake and his father walk away. Knowing what went on behind closed doors. Knowing that he could_ do _something about it. Knowing that there would be consequences if he did. Feeling like a coward, even as he tried to assure himself that it wasn’t for his own well-being that he hesitated.)_

“Undyne and…and Sans. Red. Have a lot more contact with him than I do.” He carefully circled around to what Red had done, how he had dared to negotiate with Asgore himself. Then, he faltered as he realized—“I. I don’t even know what the price would be. For something like that. I don’t even—“ He inhaled sharply and swallowed, gaze fixed on the ground. “I don’t even know what this cost him.” That fact. The _not knowing_ was suddenly too much for him. He sank to the ground and put his face in his hands, breathing slow and deep. “Stars,” he whispered hoarsely, “what did he—?”

Edge was not a small monster, so he was a little startled to be simply pulled into Rus’ lap like he was no bigger than one of the Sans-es. Rus and Blue had joined him on the floor, and while Rus held him, Blue stood and embraced him from the other side, so he was securely held between the two of them. Both of them were crying, but they hadn’t said anything about how awful his universe was, or how terrible things must be for him. They’d listened silently, and though they wept, they never looked at him with pity, only compassion.

Edge was immensely grateful for that.

He had no idea how long they spent on the floor like that, none of them speaking, only silently sharing their sorrow and pain. Eventually, though, Blue said, “You can come live with us here, Edge. If it’s ever too much. You can stay here. Both you and Red.”

“Yes,” Rus agreed, his voice soft, “Or with us. You’d both be welcome.”

Edge laughed bitterly. “Don’t be ridiculous. Your brothers—“

“I could convince Sans,” Rus said, completely self-assured.

More surprisingly, Blue said, “It was Papy’s idea. He just wasn’t sure how to invite you.”

Edge pulled back to stare at him, sockets wide. He. He really hadn’t expected this. “I.” He looked between them, then shook his head, pulling away physically and emotionally. He extracted himself from the knot of warmth and affection and brushed himself off, carefully piecing himself back together. “The eggs are probably room temperature by now,” he said, voice firm and sure, “Are you two just going to gape at me like the lazybones? Or are you going to make yourselves useful?”

They were on their feet in an instant, though their normal energy was somewhat subdued. Rus and Blue surveyed the kitchen table, eyeing everything he’d laid out. They may have gave him a concerned glance once or twice, but the ingredients soon captured their full attention. Rus, brow-bones furrowed, picked up a twisted root with a mix of interest and trepidation. “What are we making?” he asked, some of his usual eagerness and excitement beginning to slip back into his voice.

“A cake,” Edge said simply. “You can start by peeling that.”

“What is this anyway, Edgy-me?”

Edge smirked, starting to enjoy himself. “The key ingredient.” He turned to Blue and ordered, “You—measure out three quarters of a cup of stout and bring it to a boil.”

Rus happily started to peel, but Blue looked somewhat skeptical. “Edge, not that I don’t trust you, but some of these ingredients seem a little…weird. Can I see the recipe?”

“I don’t carry the recipe around with me, pipsqueak.” Blue’s uncertainty doubled, even as Edge fought not to laugh. He’d long ago memorized this particular recipe, which was complex enough to hold his interest but simple enough to complete in an hour. He lifted his chin and asked haughtily, “Are you questioning my expertise, pipsqueak?”

“No,” Blue said, mirroring Sans’ earlier placating gesture. “It’s not that, just…pepper? Beer? That just seems a little…unusual. For a cake, I mean.”

It was really hard not to grin in response to that, but Edge managed. “It’s an unusual cake,” he said, “Don’t tell me the Magnificent Sans is content with simple, boring _vanilla_?” He said the word like it was dirty. “Wouldn’t you rather have something with a little more…spice to it?” he asked, smirking.

A faint cyan blush appeared across Blue’s cheekbones. “Spice!” he said abruptly, his blush flaring when he heard his own eagerness.

“That’s what I thought,” Edge said, still smirking. “Now. I gave you your assignment. Why don’t you get to it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder...who can guess what kind of cake they're making?


	26. Puns are never the solution.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone needs to learn how to deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for panic attacks and dealing with the consequences of events from Ch. 16. No explicit references are made to the triggering content from that chapter, however.

As soon as Edge lifted the hem of his shirt, Red crumpled to the ground, looking more hurt than if his brother had physically struck him. Edge just watched him, cold and implacable. Then he dropped his shirt and snapped, “Blue, Rus—kitchen. Now.” Blue obeyed immediately, but Rus hesitated, looking between Red and Edge. Then he caught Paps’ gaze and subtly gestured to Red. The message was obvious: Look after him. Paps nodded firmly, and Rus followed Edge and Blue into the kitchen.

Paps swept forward, gathering Red up. To his surprise, though, Red shoved him away and clambered to his feet. He was shaking so hard his bones rattled, and fresh tears tracked down his cheekbones. Nevertheless, he wiped the tears away brusquely and straightened his clothing, smirking weakly. “guess boss is still seein’ red, huh?” he asked. He looked at the two of them, smirk wavering as fresh tears welled. “good thing we all live in snowdin, huh? ‘cause he really needs ta chill out.”

“that’s _snow_ joke,” Sans said, looking at the ground. Obviously uncomfortable.

“don’t worry,” Paps said, playing with his lighter and wishing for some honey. “rus and blue will get him to cool down.”

“ya sure ‘bout that?” Red asked, “look’s like they’re fixin’ ta cook up some trouble.” He tugged at his collar, using the heel of his other hand to wipe his face again. “heh. they’re the real troublemakers, right? i. i don’ know why he’s always gettin’ pissy with me, when he’s the one that—“ Red heaved in a shuddering breath and fell silent, bones rattling again.

Silence fell between them. All of them were occupied with their thoughts, and no one wanted to be the first to speak. Or to speak at all. Finally, Sans asked, “anyone want to go to muffet’s?”

“fuck yes,” Red said, relieved, “ ‘m too sober fer this shit.”

“you could say that again,” Sans said. Then both of them glanced at Paps, a question in their eyelights.

Even as Paps’ soul churned, he forced a smile. “that again.” The two Sans-es snorted in amusement and made for the door. As soon as their backs were turned, Paps’ grin faltered and he dug his fingers into the wound on his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Muffet. He desperately wanted to take Edge’s advice—that he shouldn’t allow Fell Muffet to have any kind of power over him—but thinking that, saying it, was one thing. Living it was another.

Still, he followed the others outside and lit a cigarette immediately, offering the pack to Red and Sans. Red accepted. Sans declined. Paps drew the smoke deep into his chest cavity, wishing it was something a little stronger. The nicotine calmed him a little, but by the time they reached Muffet’s, his hands were shaking nonetheless. He studied the façade, finding the shabby exterior something of a comfort. It was nothing like the bakery in Underfell’s Hotland. _(A buzzing sign, some letters lit and others dark, so it read ‘We come to Hand’.)_

He thought suddenly of the cute little spider-muffin painted on Fell-verse Muffet’s window, advertising her bakery. He bit down on a phalange, trying not to start laughing hysterically. Or crying. He wasn’t sure which, honestly. When Sans held the door open for him, though, he stuffed his hands into his pocket and forced a grin, trying to look normal. Which should have been easy, but he’d never really paid attention to what ‘normal’ looked like. Was his smile right? Was this how he usually slouched, or should he stand up straighter? Was he supposed to do something with his hands?

He froze just inside the doorway, his eyes drawn to the ceiling and the violet webbing strung between the rafters. _(Walking through Underfell’s Hotland. Spiderwebs stretching between the buildings, which were covered in graffiti. A stylized spider spray-painted over boarded up windows. Malicious eyes appraising them from the doorways. Scuttling overhead as an unseen escort accompanied them through Muffet’s territory. Edge, looking harsh and cruel and exactly like the monster Paps had always—unfairly—imagined him to be.)_ Hundreds of spiders tended the webbing and the customers below, delivering coffee and tea, cakes and cookies, and once the artificial sunlight dimmed, wine and other spirits. Muffet wasn’t much for conversation, so she typically kept to the back—which Paps was, currently, very grateful for.

His soul was pulsing wildly, the magic within crackling and popping erratically. This place was a sanctuary of sorts. This was where he went when he couldn’t sleep because of the nightmares, where he went when he wanted to forget himself and crawl into a honey bottle. If he really wanted to lose himself, he would even sweet-talk his way into Muffet’s bed. He’d always felt safe here, but now, he could only think of that trip through Edge’s Hotland and the encounter with his Muffet. The scent of burnt sugar and coffee combined with the ovens’ almost oppressive heat reminded him forcibly of her breakfast table, so carefully laid out and arranged with lace doilies and fine dishware—

_(Her voice so sweet it was cloying, hiding the poison beneath. “Oh, dearie~. I’m going to tear you apart.”)_

—Paps bolted out the door and made it, at least, to the alleyway before he had to bend over and vomit. His soul felt like it was being squeezed, wrung out. Pulling back, he pressed his forehead into the cool brick, his whole body shuddering. _stop it!_ he ordered himself, trying to pull himself back together, _this isn’t underfell. this is_ my _muffet. this is_ my _universe._ His soul didn’t listen. It continued to pulse and pound erratically, and his body continued to shake.

A skeletal hand reached out and clasped his humerus, strong and steady. “heya, stretch,” Red said, “guess muffet’s was a bad idea, huh?” He said it so casually, as if there was nothing wrong about finding his friend throwing up in an alleyway. It could have seemed callous and might have to an outsider, but Paps latched on to the normalcy. Pretend everything was fine for long enough, and maybe one day, it would be.

Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“heh. guess so,” he said, his forehead and hand pressed against the wall for support, “looks like i just couldn’t stomach it.” Stars above, that really, really wasn’t funny. Red laughed anyway, and Sans managed a strained smile.

“i got an idea,” Red said, rocking back on his heels, “how ‘bout we go ta waterfall instead? i know a shortcut.” He said the last with a wink.

Sans, who looked a great deal more uncertain than Paps had ever seen him, said, “sounds good to me. i’ll check in with muffet and see if i can get our order to go.”

“thanks, sans,” Paps said, “that’d be great.”

Sans disappeared inside, and Red, socket glinting, took hold of Paps’ forearm. “welp. time ta go.”

“what about sans?”

“eh. he can find me an’ rus easy enough. i figure he can find you an’ me jus’ as easy.”

Paps chuckled a little and nodded. Red’s grin stretched and he teleported them away. As soon as the world solidified around them, Red pushed him back, and Paps yelped a little in surprise, not expecting to be caught by the bench behind him. Red snickered at his surprise before clambering up beside him, arranging himself so that he was lounging against Paps’ side, feet up on the bench. Both of them immediately looked up at the ‘stars’.

Paps just took a moment to breathe, appreciating the familiarity of the situation. Automatically, he reached out and planted a hand on Red’s shoulder, taking strength from his presence…but offering support as well. Like Paps, Red might be able to paste on a mask of normalcy, but underneath, his soul too probably felt like it was going to break.

Red offered him a cigarette, and Paps eyed him, brow-bones furrowed. He dug a hand into his pocket and realized—“you little thief.”

“heh. yer not really in a position ta criticize, are ya, stretch?” Red asked as he lit up. There was no heat to his words, but Paps flinched nonetheless.

He snatched the pack of cigarettes from Red’s hand and stuffed them back into his pocket. The lighter he held onto, though, thoughtfully running his phalanges through the flame while Red continued to gaze up at the stars. They didn’t speak for a while, but the silence wasn’t easy, as it had always been between them. _stars,_ Paps thought, _we’re a mess, aren’t we?_ The thought distracted him, and he flinched, pulling his hand back as he tried to shake the sting from his fingers.

Red caught his hand and studied the burn. “welp. that was stupid,” he observed without judgment. They eyed each other, then started snickering. Heel of his hand pressed to his forehead, Red asked through his sniggering, “the hell did ya do that fer anyway? feelin’ a little burnt out, er what?”

That just renewed Paps’ chuckles. “yeah,” he said, “just trying to heat things up, i guess.”

“c’mon, stretch. it’ll really burn blue up if i bring ya back all singed.”

“oh, it won’t be _ash_ bad as all that.”

Red snorted, smoke curling out of his nasal cavity. “trust me, pal. that ain’t a bridge i wanna burn.” It was only when Red wiped at his cheek that Paps realized he was crying again.

“you doing okay, kiddo?” he asked gently.

“better ‘n you,” Red shot back, voice surprisingly hard. A full minute of silence stretched between them. “i can’t believe he brought ya ta underfell,” Red finally said. “yer tale-verse, stretch. ya didn’ belong anywhere _near_ muffet er her goons.”

Something hot and hard condensed inside of Paps. A core of molten iron he hadn’t realized he possessed. “fuck you,” he said, quietly but sincerely, “i went ‘cause i was afraid for you, jackass.”

“ya shouldn’ a’ been,” Red said, voice low and dark. “ ‘s nuthin’ i couldn’ a’ handled.”

Paps exhaled hard. “yeah,” he said, voice flat, “you looked like you had everything under control. i’m sure knight knight and—“ Magic, hot and unpleasantly thick, welled in his mouth. He swallowed it back and soldiered on, “—and madjick were playing right into your hands. muffet too. tell me, did you intend to wake up and come to our rescue before or after she and her goons were finished with us? ‘cause let me tell you, kiddo, you’ve got really shitty timing.”

“you shouldn’ a’ been there,” Red insisted, “you were s’posed ta keep ‘im _here_ , idiot. not go traipsin’ through underfell with ‘im. it’s not a fuckin’ vacation spot!”

“did you really expect us to just let it go when we couldn’t find you? did you really think we’d just shrug it off?”

Red scrubbed at his face again before hopping down off the bench to stand by the water. “ya should’ve,” he said, kicking at the waterweeds that grew there.

_(“i don’ know why yer botherin’ with me. ‘m not worth it.”)_ The remembered words hit him suddenly, like a physical blow, and Paps was on his feet in an instant. “red?”

Red glanced back at him, cheekbones stained and eyelights dimmed. “what?”

“we’ll always come for you. you know that, right? me and edge. rus too. we’ll always come for you, if you’re in trouble. an there’s nothing you can do to stop us, either. you know how stubborn edge and rus are. and i might be lazy…but you’ve seen how i get when someone messes with my brother. guess what, _bro_ ; same rules apply to you. don’t pull this self-sacrificing bullshit. we aren’t going to take it well, kid, let me promise you that.”

Red turned slightly so that they were almost facing each other. “thought you agreed with me,” Red reminded him, “thought ‘you’d a’ done the same’.”

Paps looked away, rubbing the mark on his sternum again. “just because i’d have done the same, doesn’t mean it was the smart choice. c’mon. at this point, we both know i’m not exactly the best role model.”

“yeah. yer a special kind a’ stupid, tha’s fer sure,” Red said, face tucked into the ruff of his jacket. _(Red. Wrapping unpleasant truths in even harsher words to push Paps away. Fighting with Edge—physically and verbally—to try to keep him away. Failing to stand against his brother’s sheer stubbornness, worn down by Edge’s rough and unrelenting affection.)_

“maybe,” Paps said mildly. He wasn’t Edge. He wouldn’t be able to replicate what Edge had done that afternoon. He didn’t have the knowledge or the long-established trust that Red shared with his brother. But he had an advantage that Edge didn’t have. In many ways, Paps was just as much Red’s alternate as he was Edge’s; Paps could understand Red in ways that Edge would never be able to. “we are an awful lot alike.”

Red shot him a glare and flipped him off. He also made a rather vulgar suggestion, which Paps ignored. The taller skeleton came to stand beside him, both of them gazing into the water. Starlight reflected back at them from the water’s surface, bright and clear and beautiful. “i get it, you know,” Paps said after a moment, “i really do. it’s hard, when you feel like nothing matters. like nothing’s real. like _you_ don’t matter.” He toed the waterweeds, watching the ripples that spread outward from the bending reed. He didn’t look up, though he could feel Red’s eyes on him.

“and i get wanting to preserve one thing—just _one thing_ —in all this mess. the one thing that still matters. the one person that still gives you hope. i get it. believe me, red, _i get it_. but you end up doing stupid shit trying to keep him safe—from people that would hurt him, from bad influences, from _himself_. you’re just trying to protect him, but you end up doing things that you know aren’t healthy—for him or for you. not in the long run. i understand, ‘cause i do the same fucking thing….”

He took a breath and fiddled with his lighter, clicking the wheel rhythmically. “and i know that it’s hard not to do it, even if you know that, ultimately, you’ll only end up hurting him. ‘cause you can never quite believe that bill’s gonna come due. just like muffet—or grillby—never calls in their tab. you just keep piling things on it, telling yourself that…you’ll never really have to pay.” He dared to glance up, wondering if his words had hit home. Red was staring at him with wide sockets, teeth parted just slightly. He seemed to be holding his breath. “if nothing’s real, if nothing matters…then why worry about the consequences, right?”

Paps looked away, knowing he wouldn’t be able to finish if he kept watching Red. “it’s especially hard,” he said softly, “when you sometimes feel like you’ve done the same thing, made the same mistakes over and over again. for years. for _lifetimes_. it’s easy. comfortable, right?” He sighed and looked up, calling on that iron core to strengthen him. “but it’s not fair to them. blue deserves better…but i’m the only brother he’s got, so i’m just going to have to _be_ better. as for edge—“

“the edgelord spent a solid minute yelling at me,” Sans said, takeout bag in hand. He strolled up and stood on Red’s other side, eyeing him. “to paraphrase: ‘you are the most important person in his life, sans—you think he wouldn’t listen to your concerns if you bothered to talk to him?’ somehow, i think he might have been projecting. just a bit.” Looking away, he rubbed the back of his neck and said, quietly, “…not that i didn’t deserve to be yelled at too….”

By now, tears were gathered in Red’s sockets again. He wiped them away with the heel of his hand, his smirk strained. Voice unsteady, he said, “see, stretch? what’d i tell ya? the jackass found us jus’ fine.”

Sans shrugged, completely unrepentant. “it’s a gift.”

Red’s grin faltered a bit, and he took a hitching breath. “i should…i should go talk ta boss.”

Paps caught him around the shoulders and drew him in. “nah. don’t you remember? we got kicked out.” Edge still needed to calm down, and so did Red, really. It wouldn’t do for them to start a fight in the living room. Again.

“yeah. let ‘em play house for a bit,” Sans said, fishing through the takeout bag. “besides, i got condiments.” He held up a bottle of honey and another of mustard. The ketchup, presumably, was still in the bag. “how ‘bout we sit down and just enjoy the stars for a bit, huh?”

They all agreed that that seemed like a good idea. Soon enough, they were all settled on or around the bench, condiments in hand. Paps took a long drink. The honey his his soul hard and fast, the extra magic crackling along the mana lines throughout his body. He sighed happily, then—“sans! what the _fuck_?!”

Paps sat up, alarmed. Red’s face was covered in mustard—one socket was completely filled with the stuff. Even as Red tried scooping the mustard out of his socket, he spewed a variety of creative obscenities, while Sans cackled gleefully. “what did you do?” Paps asked, looking between Sans and Red. He honestly couldn’t decide if he was amused or upset.

“i just—“ Sans choked on his words, laughing too hard to explain. He shook his head and pointed to the mustard bottle, bent double as he struggled to breathe through his laughter. Paps raised a brow and looked at the bottle. Sans must have unscrewed it before giving it to Red, so when Red went to take a drink, the whole bottle emptied onto his face. Paps snorted into his hand, finally settling on amused. Then Red was on his feet, hands fisted at his sides and growling. Sans sobered immediately. “uh. woops?”

Red dove for him, but Sans teleported before he could make contact. “ _muthafucker!”_ Then Red was gone too, presumably chasing after Sans.

Paps sighed. He could probably follow them, if he tried. Shortcuts left a kind of magic trail—more of a tunnel, really—that he’d be able to trace if he moved fast, before reality had a chance to ‘heal’ around the tear Sans and Red had ripped in it’s surface. Yep. He could follow them. Or—he eyed the honey in his hand and leaned back, deciding he’d stargaze for a bit and hope that they returned soon enough.

They did not.

Twirling the honey bottle between his fingers, he stood and stretched, lingering to see if they might suddenly appear. Finally, it became clear that they weren’t going to be coming back any time soon. Scratching the back of his neck, Paps considered his options. Being alone and out in the open like this still left him a little anxious, though not as badly as it had yesterday. He could head home, or ask Undyne to look for the Sans-es on her cameras. He even considered going back to Muffet’s. It was his safe place, and…he wanted it back. More importantly, he wanted his easy, casually flirtatious friendship with his Muffet back.

The very idea of seeing her, of stepping inside her bakery (her parlor) made his soul pulse with anxiety, though. Worse, the idea that he could be _this_ affected by his experiences ate at his confidence, making him feel weak and useless. A new emotion was also beginning to stir, though. Embers of anger were kindling in his soul. Some of it was directed inward…but the majority was directed at Fell-verse Muffet and Madjick, however. They stole his safe place from him. They’d threatened and violated himself and his friends, and _none of them had deserved that!_

_(“What happened wasn’t your fault.”)_

That knowledge, that certainty really sank into his soul for the first time. He hadn’t deserved to be treated like that, any more than Edge or Red deserved what had been done to them. And it wasn’t his fault any more than it was theirs. The blame lay solely with their assailants, not with the victims. And Paps found a kind of peace in that understanding, that knowledge.

Nevertheless, Muffet’s just wasn’t an option at the moment. He simply wasn’t ready. He would be, though. Soon enough. He was not going to allow _three hours_ of his life to ruin the rest of it. At the moment, though, he really just wanted to go home and allow the Sans-es to work things out between themselves.

He teleported to the doorstep, as Blue insisted. Something about it being rude to appear unannounced in the house. Particularly with mud or snow on his shoes. He obediently wiped his feet on the mat before opening the door, even though he simply toed off his shoes as soon as he stepped inside. Already, he could hear the noise from the kitchen, a mix of excited yelling, laughter, and the clatter of crockery. He raised a brow-bone. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to leave them alone like this; it sounded like they were having _way_ too much fun. A slow smile spread across his features, glad of that. After yesterday, they all deserved a bit of fun.

He hesitated outside the kitchen door, intending to knock to make sure it was safe to enter, when he heard Edge say, “Typically, when making cakes or quick bread, you don’t want to abuse the dough. A more delicate touch is required to keep the finished product from becoming tough. This cake is a little different; vigorous stirring will actually give it the necessary structure and firmness. Blue? If you would—“

“Mweh heh heh!” Paps had to bite down on his phalange to hold in his laughter. He recognized that particular intonation; his brother was feeling mischievous.

Apparently, though, Edge was familiar enough with either the tone or Blue’s expression—Paps could actually picture him; smile broad, sockets crinkled at the corners and the stars in his eyelights swollen to fill the ‘iris’—to recognize the need for damage control. He heard the clack of bone on bone, and then an exasperated voice said, “Not _that_ vigorously. Stars, pipsqueak; you want to have some batter to bake, don’t you?”

Deciding against knocking, Paps pushed the door open but hovered when he noticed that Edge and Blue were practically embracing. Blue was standing at the counter on one of his stepping stools, one hand on the rim of a large metal bowl and the other on the handle of a wooden spoon. Edge was behind him, physically restraining Blue’s hands. From the minimal spatter, it looked like he’d caught Blue’s hands before much damage could be done. Blue was looking up at him, and Paps could still envision the stars in his eyes, and from his vantage, he could tell he’d been right about the mischievous smile. “Show me!” Blue cheerfully demanded.

“Show you?” Edge asked, looking him over, “What do you—“ Then Blue slipped his hands out from under Edge’s and planted his smaller hands on top. His smile widened slightly. Edge just gave him the same unimpressed look he gave whenever Paps started flirting with him. “You cheeky little—“ he complained, though he didn’t try to extract his hands.

“Aw, Edge~! I want a demonstration!”

Rus leaned against the counter, watching the scene with an equally mischievous grin. “YES, EDGY-ME! DEMONSTRATE FOR US! SHOW US YOUR PASSION! YOUR INTENSITY!”

Edge’s skull fell forward, and he probably would have rubbed that spot between his brow-bones if his hands were free. “Rus. We’ve talked about this. There is a proper way to show passion in your cooking. Beating your ingredients is not it.” He tried to extract his hands now. “Are we really doing this?”

“I’m not letting you go until you demonstrate~!” Blue teased.

Unable to resist, Paps stepped fully into the room. “yeah, edgelord, i wouldn’t mind seeing a demonstration of your passion.” He winked, to make sure his meaning was clear.

Edge looked between him and Blue, before looking up at the ceiling and sighing. “Shouldn’t you be yelling at me for ‘corrupting’ your brother, or something? Even though he’s the instigator here.”

“nah. though blue should probably watch out for red; i already got the talk.” He made sure to inject enough humor into that statement so that Edge wouldn’t take it seriously. Edge was already angry enough—he didn’t need more fuel for that particular fire.

As he’d hoped, Edge just grumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes. He didn’t start growling. Or throwing things. When he was done being irritated, though, he did, indeed, demonstrate. “Rus, is the pan greased?” he asked as he finished stirring.

“EDGY-ME, I’M STILL NOT SURE ABOUT _ADDING_ GREASE TO—“

“STARS ON FIRE!” Edge snapped, throwing his hands into the air, now that Blue had released him. There was an undercurrent of amusement in his actions and his expression, though. “For the _last_ time. Cooking very nearly requires some type of grease, no matter what you’re making. Oil for sautéing. Butter or shortening for baking. It adds flavor and texture, and it will even bring out the character of certain ingredients. Or, in this case, _it keeps the cake from sticking to the pan!_ Just grease the fuc—“

“LANGUAGE.”

“Language.”

“yeah. language, edge. geeze.”

Edge stared at Paps hard before flipping him off. He turned back to Rus and said, flatly, “I’ll ask again; is the pan greased?”

Rus sighed, arms crossed over his chest. “…YES…”

“Excellent.” He handed the bowl to Rus and instructed him in how to smooth the top, and how they would know when the cake was finished baking. The batter was dark and rich-looking as they poured it into the pan. Even uncooked, the scent of cinnamon was heavy in the air. Pleasantly, it actually reminded Paps of the Queen and those mornings they’d take tea in her garden.

“What about the frosting?” Blue asked as they put it in the oven. Edge set a timer and checked that the oven was pre-heated to the proper temperature. He slapped Rus’ hand when the other skeleton went to adjust the temperature.

“It’s not that kind of cake, pipsqueak.”

“WHAT KIND OF CAKE DOESN’T HAVE FROSTING?”

Edge face-palmed, and Paps had to hold in his laughter. “There are many different kinds of cake that don’t have—“ He sighed. “You want frosting? Fine. Both of you, go to the store and fetch heavy whipping cream. Blue—you’ve got confectioner’s sugar and vanilla extract, correct?”

Blue eyed him. “We’re making whipped cream?”

“Yes.”

“BUT THAT’S NOT—“

“I told you, this cake doesn’t need frosting. Whipped cream is my compromise. Take it or leave it. I don’t actually care.”

Blue and Rus glanced at each other, then they shrugged. “We’ll be back soon!”

“Oh, please. Take your time,” Edge said. As soon as they were gone, he looked at Paps and said, “I’m beginning to see why you and Sans are so tired all the time.”

“aw, are they too much for you, edgelord?” he asked.

Edge lifted his chin, haughty and proud…but playful too. Paps couldn’t _believe_ that he had always read Edge’s smirk as malicious rather than amused. “The Great and Terrible Papyrus can most certainly handle _anything_ those two—“

“—can cook up?” Paps suggested, snickering when Edge glared at him.

Suddenly, though, Edge got an odd look on his face. “Where are Sans and Red?”

Paps shrugged. He was about to say he didn’t know, when he remembered Edge had basically ordered him not to lose Red. “uh…you know. around.”

Edge raised a brow-bone. “Around _where_?”

“uh…underswap?”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“um. well, yeah, i mean—they’re definitely in underswap.” Unless Sans had tried to escape to Undertale, but that seemed unlikely. “but otherwise? uh. no. no, i have no idea where they went.”

“Stars above, Swapshit—I gave you _one job_.”

“it’s hardly my fault! besides, it looked like him and sans had a few things they needed to work out. i thought it was best to leave them to it.”

Edge sighed, rubbing his nasal ridge. “Alright, alright. Fine. They’re together?”

“well. it was more like red was chasing sans…but. yeah?”

Edge gave him a baleful look. “And you’re confident they’re still in Underswap?”

“oh, definitely. they’ve got no reason to leave. and besides, neither of them are all that into chasing or being chased. they’ll tire themselves out soon enough and head back here.”

Edge was unmoved. With a sigh, he dug out his phone and quickly dialed. After a few seconds, he said, “Your boyfriend is not going to be impressed with your behavior. No, don’t try to tell me what he did. I don’t care. Put him down and get your ass back here. Now. Don’t even try to tell me I’m being overbearing. Considering that stunt you pulled yesterday, you’re lucky I haven’t attached a leash to your collar. That’s an option, Red. I have one in my inventory. Care to test that theory? Get your ass back here in two minutes, or you’ll find out if I’m bluffing or not.”

With that, he snapped the phone shut. Paps was staring at him. “…you don’t actually have a leash in your inventory, do you?”

“Of course I do. It was a gift from Undyne. For my dog.”

“…you have a dog?”

“Yes. He stands about this tall and has a disgusting fondness for mustard.”

Paps was honestly a little afraid to ask if he would really carry through on that threat or not. He wasn’t sure how he would feel about the answer. Thankfully, Sans and Red came through the kitchen door within two minutes, so he wouldn’t have to find out. Both of them looked a little rough around the edges, and Red’s face was still smeared with drying mustard. At some point, Red must have caught up to Sans, but Sans had obviously fought back. Despite that, neither of them had worse than a few scrapes, maybe a bruise. Neither of them had enough ill intent to do any HP damage to the other, and they obviously hadn’t resorted to magic.

Edge surveyed them disapprovingly. “Is this how you behave in the Tale-verses when I’m not around?” he asked Red. “And you—“ He focused on Sans. “—you’re a Tale-verse monster. I thought you were better than this. I’m incredibly disappointed in both of you.” Sans was giving him an odd look, caught between embarrassment and disbelief. And behind the disbelief…there was something that might have been sorrow. Red, however, just brushed off his jacket and fluffed the ruff of his hood. As he did so, he kept casting surreptitious glances at his brother. “Well? Go get cleaned up. Unless you want Rus and Blue to see the two of you like this,” Edge said, shooing them off.

Sans, still looking somewhat saddened, left the room. Red, however, remained, gazing cautiously up at Edge. “so…you still mad, boss?”

Edge sighed deeply, then glanced at Paps. “Would you mind giving us some privacy?”

Paps glanced between the two of them. “alright. but if either of you start throwing things, i’m sending in blue and rus.”

“Fine, fine. Just get out.”

Obediently, Paps left them alone, but he was somewhat surprised to see Sans hovering in the living room, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. “what’s up, pal?” he asked, coming to stand beside him. “you look a little shell-shocked there.”

“sometimes,” Sans said softly, “he just really reminds me of papyrus. my papyrus. and….” He shook his head.

“i know what you mean,” Paps said quietly, “it’s the same for me with razz. sometimes he’ll strike a pose or say something with just the right inflection…. it’s eerie and…heartbreaking. ‘cause i always wonder.”

“what made them like that?”

“yeah.”

They shared a quiet moment. “do you think…red and slim screwed them up? they’re the older brothers. they’re supposed to—“

“no,” Paps said firmly. “no. red and slim have their own issues and…honestly? i don’t see how anyone could come out of the fell-verses intact.” If they’d intended on following that line of thought, the moment was broken when Rus and Blue burst through the front door, nearly falling over themselves in excitement. Both Paps and Sans couldn’t help but smile when they reappeared, and Paps could feel his soul warm pleasantly.

On seeing Sans, though, Rus immediately rushed over to start fussing, while Blue looked around and asked, “Where’s Red?”

“him and edge are talking in the kitchen. they asked for some privacy.”

Blue and Rus went still and glanced at each other, then Blue went over to his brother and said, softly, “I told Edge that they could stay here with us, if they wanted.”

“Or us,” Rus said, quietly but firmly. Sans glanced up at him, brow-bones raised, but Rus just looked back at him steadily. That was not a fight that Sans was going to win, though honestly, Sans didn’t seem inclined to try.

Looking the two of them over, Paps realized, “he told you, didn’t he? what they’re fighting about? red and the judgement hall and—?”

“Yes,” Blue said, looking at his feet. “He told us.” Really, Paps should have guessed that Edge would tell them. Somehow, though, Paps wasn’t angry with him for it. He was a little sad, maybe, but…a large part of him was actually grateful. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders; he hadn’t realized how heavy the secret had been until he knew it wasn’t a secret any longer. A glance at Sans revealed that he had similar feelings.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Paps asked, “so? do you think he’ll accept?”

Blue and Rus glanced at each other, then shrugged. Rus scooped Sans up, apparently in need of a hug. “I don’t know,” Blue said, leaning against his brother’s side. Paps looped an arm over his shoulders. “I hope so.”

“me too, kiddo. me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've got some stuff that's going to be coming up, and I might not have time to write. I might be able to get one more chapter out before the end of August, but I'm not even sure of that. Anyway, this might be the last chapter you get until September. (I know I keep saying stuff like this, and I keep posting on a nearly weekly basis anyway...but for real, guys, I'm 85% sure I'm not going to be able to get more than one chapter out. And there's a 50% chance I won't even be able to do that.)
> 
> On an unrelated note, am I the only one that noticed all the references to fire in this? And not just the puns. This chapter is fire themed, for some reason. Don't ask me--I don't even know.


	27. Tea, cream, and cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Edge tries to stay calm, and Paps is being weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mention of suicide.

Edge and Red eyed each other for a few minutes, neither of them entirely sure how to begin. As anticipated, Edge was the first to make a decision. He gestured to the table and ordered Red to sit, then tossed him a damp dishtowel and told him to wipe the mustard off his face. The runt obeyed, while Edge went to the sink and filled Blue’s kettle with water. This was a familiar ritual, one he had inherited from Undyne.

_(Creeping down the hall after Undyne had unlocked his door for the day—he hadn’t earned her trust yet, so the door remained locked at night. Peeking out from the hallway to watch her make tea. Her movements were precise and relaxed. Ritualistic, almost. “Come on in, gutter-rat. Or are you just going to stand there and stare at me?” Yellow eye glinting with amusement. Noticing for the first time that there were two mugs on the table._

_Ducking back into the hall. Not yet able to trust her or her offering.)_

He dug through Blue’s cabinets until he found where he kept the tea. Golden flower, just like Undyne. While he spooned leaves into the infuser, he idly wondered if Blue and Alphys shared tea too or if he’d gotten the habit from someone else. When the water was boiling, he poured it into the teapot, and set it and a pair of mugs on the table. Red just sat there silently and watched, knowing that Edge was using the preparations as a pretense to order his thoughts.

Edge sat across from him but didn’t yet look at Red. “What happened with Asgore?” he asked abruptly.

“what happened with muffet?” Red asked in turn, looking at the empty mug between his phalanges. From his tone, he made it obvious that he wasn’t just referring to yesterday’s events.

Edge had to clench his jaw to keep from grinding his teeth. “Touché,” he said under his breath. Still not looking at Red, he forced himself to take a deep breath before saying, purposefully mild, “He knows how to hurt us now. You realize that, right? By bargaining with him, you’ve revealed—“

“he was already hurtin’ us,” Red muttered, staring into the mug. “we’re no more under ‘is thumb than before. ’m ‘is judge. an’ yer one ‘a ‘is soldiers. we serve the king…even if he is an asshat.”

Edge very nearly asked why Asgore would bargain with him at all, if they were so thoroughly in his control, but he knew the answer. Muffet used to play the same game with him. So had Undyne for that matter, though her bargains had always been threaded through with an underlying hint of kindness. Give your underlings a sense of autonomy, allow them to believe they still had some control over their own lives, if only minimally…and they would serve more faithfully. It made them your accomplices, rather than your slaves.

If Asgore had other, deeper motives, not even Red was likely to know, so there was no point in asking after them. Edge, still maintaining a mild tone, said, “It was reckless, nonetheless. He could have killed you. He could have thrown you in prison for your audacity. It was thoughtless and stupid and—“

“right,” Red said, hands tight around the mug, “i get it. ‘m an idiot. knew that already.”

Slowly, Edge inhaled, holding his breath for a count of three. This was not going as he’d intended. “You’re not an idiot,” he said carefully, “You are one of the most intelligent monsters I know, runt.” He ignored Red’s startled reaction. Neither of them had much in the way of formal schooling but that didn’t mean that either of them was stupid. Edge had seen the scientific articles tucked away in the pages of his brother’s joke books. He’d seen how _lively_ his normally lazy brother had been the week Sans spent stranded with them—drinking in everything his duplicate had to say about physics and time-space manipulation. “Which is why I find it so baffling that you would do something so—“ He cut himself off, realizing he was starting to get worked up again. Calm. Calm. He had. To stay. Calm.

While he got himself back under control, Red glared at him across the table. “ya really expected me ta face ya in the hall fer sumthin’ ya did ‘cause ‘a me? you an’ undyne were only fightin’ ‘cause i—“

Edge slapped a hand on the table, the sound of bone on laminate wood ringing in the air. So much for calm. “I told you that wasn’t your fault! Undyne’s LV is too high. Anything could have caused her to snap.” He remembered the promise they’d made to each other— _(“I refuse to be part of that bastard’s menagerie.”)_ —but he pushed the thought away. _I’m sorry_. It wasn’t the first promise he’d broken, and it was unlikely to be the last.

Red scrubbed angrily at his face before the welling tears could fall. “so? it wasn’t jus’ _anything_ that made ‘er lose it. it was me! it was me, an’ i jus’—“ He took a shuddering breath. “i couldn’ do it, boss. i _couldn’_.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to me about it?” Edge demanded, finally getting down to the heart of the matter, “You just snuck out in the _middle of the night_!”

“ ‘cause ya wouldn’a agreed ta anythin’! yer so fuckin’ stubborn; all ya would’a said was ‘i can take it’, like ya got sumthin’ ta prove.” He said the last scornfully, angry and upset. “guess what, boss? maybe you can take it, but i fuckin’ can’t! i _can’t_!”

“It would have been just a couple hundred HP, Sans. That’s nothing. I don’t know why you’re being so—“

“this is why i don’ fuckin’ try ta talk ta ya!” Red snapped, “ya don’ _listen_.”

Edge pushed away from the table and took a few moments to breathe. Red wasn’t being fair. Edge listened. He _did_. (Did he?) Swallowing tightly, he shook his head, not looking at Red. “I’m listening now,” he said carefully, “So, please, tell me why you thought that it would be better for me—for either of us—if you were to sneak off without my knowledge, piss off Undyne to _no end_ , and make a deal—which you refuse to tell me the details off—with a monster of _20 LV_? Tell me, Sans, because I cannot see how that benefits anyone.”

“fuck you!” Red snapped, hunching down in his jacket, face tucked into the ruff of his hood. “yer still not listenin’.”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT SAYING ANYTHING!”

They regarded each other silently for several seconds. Finally, Edge dropped his head into one hand and again took a calming breath. Without looking at Red, he poured the tea, allowing the scent—sweet and honeyed—to mix with the scent of cinnamon and ginger already heavy on the air. “This isn’t.” Edge rubbed the spot between his brow-bones. “This isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said finally, “Not really. Blue and Rus…both of them have said that their homes are open to us. We could…we could come live here or in Undertale. If that’s what you want.”

Red glared at him. “ya can’t just pawn me off on some other papyrus, boss. ‘m yer brother, not a stars-damned _pet_.”

“Now who isn’t listening? I said ‘we’, runt. As in both of us.” He ignored the ache in his chest, the hollow feeling the words woke.

Immediately, Red dropped out of his combative posture, sockets wide and mouth parted. “boss? ya…ya mean it? we could—“ His eyelights grew brighter as his enthusiasm mounted…but then they dimmed just as quickly as his gaze swept over Edge’s tense posture. “ya don’t wanna leave, do ya?” he asked, disbelief thick in his voice. “ya would rather—?”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” Edge said, sweeping a hand out to cut him off, “This is your decision, and…I will abide by it.”

Red stared at him, too stunned to process his words. “w-what? what do ya—? boss—“ He looked desperate, almost afraid.

‘You’re so sure you know what’s best for me,’ Edge almost said, ‘You shouldn’t have a problem deciding for me.’ But he bit back the words, knowing they would be needlessly hurtful. He wanted to continue hiding behind anger and sarcasm, but this was an important decision. He could no longer afford to be petty or to disguise his true feelings with sharp words. “I wasn’t angry with you,” he said quietly.

“um. boss? no offense, but i’m gonna hafta call bullshit on that.”

Edge chuckled despite himself, though there was more than a trace of bitterness alongside his amusement. “Fair enough,” he said with a sigh. “Fine, I was not _just_ angry. I was…I was afraid, Sans. Terrified. Alphys sent us a video clip. I saw you get picked up by Muffet’s spiderlings.” Clenching his fists, he asked, “Do you have any idea what that felt like? I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

“…boss….”

Edge just spoke overtop him, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to say what needed to be said if he allowed himself to falter. “Worse than seeing it, though, was knowing that you could have avoided that ambush if you’d tried.”

“aw, c’mon, boss. they’re spiderlings—it’s what they’re made fer.”

Leaning forward, Edge held the mug between his hands, the heat seeping into his bones. “That’s what I told myself at first. But I’ve watched that video a few times since then.”

_(Unable to sleep. His mind circling in on itself, worrying over Red, who hadn’t done more than briefly stir during the day. Pulling out the phone and watching the video, trying to reassure himself that the nagging voice at the back of his mind was wrong. Watching it over and over, searching for something to reassure himself…and not finding it. Until—“Edge? You should be sleeping.” Snapping the phone shut when he heard Blue’s voice._

_“I’ve spent the whole day sleeping, pipsqueak. Forgive the pun, but I’m tired of it.” Joining him and Rus in the kitchen, talking about nothing. Plotting how to get back at Red for his stunt. Pretending his soul wasn’t weighed down by dread and desperation and uncertainty.)_

“You’re the one that taught me how to navigate the Underground, Sans. You taught me how to look for traps and signs of ambush. You taught me how to carry myself when walking out in the open. And you broke every single rule. Every. Single. One. You weren’t even watching your surroundings. I can’t help but think that…you didn’t care if you were caught or not.”

Red was fidgeting, fingers flexing over his mug and pushing it between his hands. “tha’s—don’ be stupid, boss. ‘course i didn’ wanna get caught.”

“Don’t play dumb. That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

“boss—“

“Sleeping at your post,” Edge said, raising one finger, “In _Waterfall_ , where my reputation can’t protect you. Lying to me about your status, even though you know how important it is that we’re honest with each other. Snatching one of Muffet’s errand boys off the street. You knew she’d retaliate for that. You _knew_ that, Sans. How could you not? Sneaking off to Underfell without telling me you were leaving, even though your mental state was still fragile. Negotiating with _Asgore_. Pissing off Undyne—for no reason except to _deceive me_! Knowing that she might actually kill you if you were caught, either because you triggered her LV or because she finally got tired of your shit. Strolling through Underfell like it’s one of the Tale-verses, even though you know that more than a few monsters would be thrilled to get their hands on Asgore’s Judge. And all of that’s just been within the last few days! You’re _reckless_ , Sans. And I can’t—“

Looking at Red, he asked, “Do you want to—? Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?”

“no! boss, _no_!”

Edge dropped his hand, having cycled through all five fingers before he was finished listing his evidence. He took a shuddering breath, staring into his mug. “What am I supposed to make of that, then?” he asked, “What other conclusion am I supposed to reach? I’d hoped—“ His fingers tightened on the mug. “Finding the other universes, I thought maybe you’d found something to care about. You seem to like the other Papyrus-es, and you’re fond enough of Blue. You’re more than fond of Rus. I know you’ve been stealing some of Sans’ science texts, copying bits and pieces of his research notes to study.” He smiled briefly, saying softly, “Stars, I was so _proud_ of you—you were making an effort to educate yourself, if only haphazardly.”

His sockets stung, and he shut them tight, though no tears came. “But even that hasn’t been enough. Stars, Sans, I just want you to care about yourself _half_ as much as I care about you.” He didn’t dare look up at Red. He couldn’t. Voice broken, he said, “I can be your whipping post, if that’s what you need. I can be the sadist to your masochist. I can do that for you, Sans, but I cannot be the rope you use to hang yourself. If living in Underfell is too much. If living in a Tale-verse is what you need, if that would give you a reason to keep going, to keep _trying_ …then that’s what we’ll do. As I said, it’s your decision, and I will abide by it. Take some time to consider it, then tell me when you’ve decided.” Edge knew what Red would decide. He just wanted some time to get used to the idea before he had to accept it as certainty.

He stood, leaving the mug on the table. Red remained silent and motionless, likely stunned by what his brother had said. Good. Edge was finished with this conversation. He didn’t think he could handle saying—or hearing—another word on the subject. Not now. Not yet. He pushed open the door and froze when he realized that the other skeletons were all staring at him. Had they heard? No. No, they had just been waiting for one of them to emerge, though they were making an effort to at least look like they were occupied. Well, Blue and Rus were half-heartedly working on the unicorn puzzle—they’d finished the kittens and flowerpots puzzle yesterday—while Sans and Paps lounged on the couch, drinking ketchup and honey.

The latter Edge eyed disapprovingly. It was only a little past 1pm, but he didn’t say anything. They weren’t _his_ brothers. “Blue. Rus.” He motioned for them to enter. “Cake’s almost ready, and we still need to make the whipped cream.”

From behind him, Red asked, “whatcha guys makin’ anyway?” His voice was a little unsteady, but he was obviously making an attempt to sound normal.

“I’m surprised you can’t guess, runt.” Blue and Rus followed him inside, trying to covertly study the pair of Fell-verse monsters. As he passed, Rus squeezed Red’s shoulder, and Red smiled, the expression softer than should be possible for a monster with such sharp teeth.

“uh.” Red eyed the counter, cataloguing the various bowls and utensils that they hadn’t gotten around to cleaning yet. He sipped his tea thoughtfully. “…gingerbread cake?” Edge nodded, mildly pleased. Blue and Rus both looked impressed.

“Yes, brother. Very good.”

“which recipe er ya usin’?” he asked, mug held in front of his teeth, hiding his expression.

“Oh, just a standard Ginger Stout cake,” Edge said, digging through the cupboard for another bowl and a whisk. Red’s apparent interest was making his soul warm slightly. He and Red had very few hobbies in common, but Red was occasionally interested enough in his cooking to ask questions or even assist.

“…yer not usin’ the marrow’s version?”

Blue and Rus both made a strange, strangled sound, but Edge wasn’t overly occupied with them. “No,” he said, waving a hand in dismissal, “That requires a Bundt pan, and—“ He stopped, shoulders dropping as Red tried to muffle his snickers behind his hand. “Red?”

“yeah, boss?”

“Get the fuck out of here before I throw something at you.”

“you got it, boss.”

Shaking his head once Red was gone, Edge muttered, “He would remember the name of a recipe just so he can make a pun out of it later.”

Rus and Blue eyed him uneasily. “Edge, are you okay? Do you want to talk about—?”

“I’ve had more than enough talking for today,” he said sharply, cutting Blue off. He focused on Rus and Blue, chin lifted and arms crossed. “Well, Rus? You wanted to up the intensity?” he asked in challenge.

Rus, sensing that Edge’s mood had shifted, actually looked a little uncertain, though he tried to summon up his customary enthusiasm and confidence. “Yes! I mean—YES, EDGY-ME! BRING ON THE INTENSITY!”

“Good,” Edge said, smirking, “We’re going to be making whipped cream. By hand.” Rus just looked confused, but Blue looked appropriately apprehensive. “To make things more interesting…why don’t we make it a competition?” That caused both of them to perk up a little, no longer as preoccupied by other matters.

“What are the stakes?”

“Winner makes dinner. Losers have to do the dishes.”

“Deal,” Blue said, grinning, “You two are going to look hilarious trying to wash dishes in that.” He pointed to the sink, set low enough to be comfortable for a monster Blue’s height.

“OH, I WON’T BE WASHING ANYTHING, _BLUEBERRY_. BUT DON’T WORRY, THERE’S NO SHAME IN LOSING TO THE GREAT PAPYRUS.” He posed for them, scarf flowing behind him like a cape despite the lack of wind.

Smirk more genuine now, Edge casually buffed his claws against his borrowed shirt. “I’d wish you both luck…but pretending you have any hope of winning would just be cruel.” Honestly, Edge really didn’t care about winning or losing—he just wanted something to do with his hands, something to keep himself occupied and to keep his thoughts from spiraling. If he were in his home universe, he’d spar with Undyne or patrol Snowdin forest—

His soul pulsed, pained. He pushed the thought away and measured out equal amounts of powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and whipping cream into three separate bowls. Deciding that he really didn’t want to know why Blue had three whisks, he handed the other two skeletons their bowls and utensils. “Ready? Three. Two. _Go!_ ”

 

“I still can’t believe you made _butter_ ,” Edge said again, drying the dish that Rus passed him. “I honestly didn’t think that was possible with a whisk.”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS SOMETIMES DOESN’T REALIZE HIS OWN GREATNESS _,_ ” Rus said with honest melancholy. Rus had, technically, made whipped cream long before either Edge or Blue…but he’d just kept whipping. He’d argued for a time that, based on that, he’d technically won their competition. The elder brothers—or, at least, Red and Sans—may have been inclined to agree, when they’d been called in to serve as judges. (Stars, he only now realized why Red and Paps had been giggling to themselves the whole time.) However, Blue and Edge had made sure to tell them the stakes before allowing them to vote.

Blue won unanimously.

So that left Edge and Rus at the sink, washing up after a meal of enchiladas and Spanish rice. Due to his broken ribs, Edge was at least spared from using the too-low sink, leaving Rus almost comically hunched over it. Blue hadn’t left them to clean up alone, however. He was busy wiping down the counters and the stovetop, humming a cheerful tune as he did so. The lazybones, of course, were in the living room, probably watching one of Napsttaton’s saccharine—

“hey, edgelord, did you sit in sugar? ‘cause you got a sweet ass.”

Well. Two out of the three. Edge took a newly clean plate from Rus and started to wipe it down. “I thought you had finally tired of your insipid flirting.” Glancing back at Paps, he added, “Actually, I’m a little disappointed in you, Ashtray. You could at least try to be more original.” Honestly, he was really just relieved that Paps was still willing and able to flirt, after all that had happened in Underfell.

“YES, LAZY-ME. ORIGINALITY IS CRITICAL. BESIDES, WE’RE SKELETONS; WE DON’T HAVE, UM, DERRIERES. YOU SHOULD INSTEAD COMPLIMENT EDGE’S PELVIC GIRDLE. IT IS QUITE NICE.”

The plate Edge had been drying cracked between his hands. “RUS!” he hissed, while Paps bent double, one hand on the wall to support himself as he laughed raucously. Even Blue was giggling, one hand covering his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“WHAT?” Rus asked, completely innocent. “WE HAVE VERY SIMILAR PHYSIQUES, EDGY-ME; YOUR BONES ARE VERY NEARLY AS GREAT AS MINE.” He looped an arm over Edge’s shoulder and drew their hips together. Looking over both their shoulders, he added, “SEE?”

Edge covered his sockets with one hand. “This is not happening,” he said, mostly to himself. Paps, however, sidled up alongside his alternates, that shit-eating grin on his face. Edge just glared at him, well aware that—thanks to Rus—his cheekbones were hot with magic. “I hope you’re satisfied,” he said, eyeing their lazy doppelganger, “Now he’s doing it too.” He gestured to Rus.

“DOING WHAT?” Rus asked, head cocked to the side. Edge honestly couldn’t decide what to make of him. On the one hand, Edge was fairly certain that Rus was not that oblivious or that innocent, but on the other hand, he might very well be narcissistic enough to believe he was stating fact rather than flattery or flirtation.

“Never mind,” Edge said, pushing him away, “Just keep to your side of the sink. And you—“ He pointed at Paps, “—either make yourself useful or get out from underfoot.”

“okay. what do you want me to do?”

This time all three younger brothers gaped at him. Edge blinked. “Excuse me?”

“i asked what you wanted help with, edgelord.” Edge patiently waited for the pun, the punchline, the joke, the jape—but it never came.

Slowly, he turned to eye Blue, who was studying his brother like he was a new and fascinating species of monster. Well, it was at least nice to know that someone else thought this was odd too. “You can put these away,” Edge finally said, gesturing to the stack of freshly washed and dried dishes. All the while, he watched Paps warily.

The other Papyrus just grinned. “you got it!” And. He started to put the dishes away.

Still monitoring Paps, he spared a glance at Rus and Blue, confirming that they looked equally bewildered. Clearing his throat, Edge said, “I’m going to go check on the lazybones. I’ll be back.” With that, he marched out of the kitchen and into the living room. Standing in front of them—and blocking the television—he surveyed the two Sans-es, who were lounging on either side of the couch like mirror images of each other. Arms crossed and sockets narrowed, he demanded, “What the fuck are you three up to?”

Both Sans-es brow-bones lifted simultaneously. It was actually really weird and not a little creepy. They had to be doing it deliberately. (Stars, he could actually imagine them practicing this little act.) “dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout, boss.”

“yeah. i mean…i only count two of us, and uh, we really aren’t doing much of anything. it’s our specialty.”

“No, it’s not. Your ‘specialty’ is pretending to do nothing, while being as noisome as possible.”

Sans, brow-bones raised, whistled. “wow, edgelord. ‘noisome’. that’s an impressively long word. compensating for something?”

Red narrowed his sockets and kicked Sans’ foot, while Edge just rolled his eyelights. “Yes—your obnoxiousness. I’m running out of adjectives, and I do hate repeating myself.”

“nice one, boss.” Grinning up at him, Red held out his fist. Edge eyed Red, eyed the fist, then sighed and tapped his knuckles against his brother’s. It was worth it to see Red light up—figuratively and literally, given the glow of his eyelights.

“Enough japery. What are you up to?” he demanded gruffly, arms crossed again. He looked between the two lazy skeletons, but quickly realized that they really had no idea what he was talking about. Or they were very dedicated to this particular joke. Edge hadn’t decided yet. He huffed, ready to explain, when the kitchen door opened and Paps poked his head out.

“i put the dishes away. anything else you need?”

It was just as weird the second time as it was the first. Still. Edge was not going to risk discouraging him if he was being genuine. “Set the table. We’ll need dessert plates, forks, and napkins. Placemats would, of course, be a nice touch.”

Paps beamed at him. “i’ll take care of it!” he said cheerfully, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Edge jerked a thumb at the door. “Explain,” he said.

The two Sans-es just stared at him, sockets wide. “i. i dunno, boss,” Red said, “…is he sick?”

Then, suddenly, Sans’ eyelights flared as realization struck him. He tried to cover it by take a gulp of ketchup, but Edge caught it nonetheless. “You,” he said sharply, “You know something. What’s going on?” Both Fell skeletons stared down the smaller Tale-verse monster. Ordinarily, Sans was a relatively composed skeleton, but even he couldn’t remain relaxed under their combined scrutiny.

“well,” Sans said, scratching the back of his skull, “uh. i mean. he hasn’t _said_ anything but….” He took another drink of ketchup to stall. “blue asked you guys to stay, right? i think. i think this is paps’ way of trying to—to encourage you guys to stay with them. he’s, uh, you know. he’s being nice.”

Edge and Red looked at each other, and neither of them could help it; they burst out laughing. Not only amused by the idea that Paps apparently thought they could be so easily bribed, but by his mistaken assumption. “heh.” Red was nearly bent double, just barely getting himself back under control. “you gonna tell ‘im he’s barkin’ up the wrong tree? er jus’ _leaf_ ‘im to it?”

“You’re joking, right?” Edge asked, deciding to ignore the pun, “I’m going to abuse the hell out of this.”

Sans looked between the two of them. “i don’t get it,” he finally said, “what’s so funny?”

Red and Edge shared a silent conversation. A lifted brow-bone. A shrug. Then—“boss left it up ta me. stretch ‘s butterin’ up the wrong side ‘a ‘is bread.” Red’s explanation set both the Fell skeletons to snickering again.

Sans sat up, his gaze suddenly sharp. “wait. why’d you leave it to him?” Sans asked, searching Edge’s eyelights. “and—does this mean you guys are staying?” He turned to Red now. “i mean, i know you don’t want to go back to—“

The questions sobered them instantly, and Red looked away, face tucked into his hood. “ ‘s not yer business,” he said gruffly. “don’ worry ‘bout it.”

“but—“

“Sans,” Edge barked, causing both to flinch. “Leave it. The runt’s right—it’s none of your business.” As a silent apology, he reached out and laid a possessive (protective) hand on Red’s skull, thumb stroking over his temple. Red sighed, relaxing marginally.

The Tale skeleton stared at them, then looked away and cleared his throat. “i’m.” He scratched his humerus. “i’m, uh, gonna go help stretch.” He hopped off the couch, hands tucked into his pockets. He paused at the kitchen door. “you know,” he said slowly, “we’d all sleep a little better at night, knowing you guys were safe.”

“Do you have a point, short-stuff?”

“nope,” Sans said faux-cheerfully and rubbed the top of his skull. “see? all curves.” Then he too slipped into the kitchen. Edge eyed Red, who was contemplating the couch’s upholstery with undeserved intensity.

“Tell me,” Edge said, “you’ve spent more time in the Tale-verses than I have. Do they make sense to you?”

Red lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “more’n you, sometimes.” Edge pulled away, more than a little shocked. And…hurt?

“What do you—?”

“why do ya wanna stay there?” Red asked, looking up at him. “why doncha like the tale-verses? ‘s this some ‘a assgore’s bullshit? some ‘kindness ‘s weakness’ crap? thought ya were better’n that, boss.”

Edge stared down at him, making an effort to keep his features blank. “We discussed this, Sans. This is your decision. My feelings on the subject don’t matter.”

Red’s sockets narrowed, but before he could say anything, Blue and Rus burst into the room, bearing the cake and a bowl of whipped cream. Their brothers trailed behind them at a more sedate pace, juggling plates and silverware with their magic. “WHO’S READY FOR CAKE?”

Immediately, Red plastered on a big grin. “ ‘m always down fer cake, creampuff. an’ after yesterday, boss could definitely use a piece. er two.” Edge smacked the back of his skull, earning a glare.

“Keep that up and you won’t be getting any, runt.” They joined the others at the table as the elder brothers gently lowered the plates and silverware to their respective places. While Blue cut the cake and started to serve everyone, Edge could feel Red staring at him, and he suspected that, despite his preferences, they weren’t quite done with this discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a few people guessed, the cake is a Ginger Stout Cake. Library_Drone, however, discovered that there is a version called the "Marrow's Ginger Stout Cake". This is not the recipe I was using. I did not know this version existed. But. The pun. Holy cow. The pun is beautiful. So, yeah, thank Library_Drone for that.
> 
> (So. Yeah. Last chapter until September. 85% sure.)


	28. Spicy and sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which cake is eaten and tensions rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild trigger warning in the endnotes. It's probably unnecessary, but....

Paps was, honestly, a little afraid to try the cake. Sure. It looked good, and it smelled amazing—a mix of cinnamon and other spices. However, Paps had tried Rus’ spaghetti; that had seemed perfectly fine until he took a bite too. After that experience, it was pretty hard to trust anything that Rus had had a hand in making. Carefully, he eyed the other skeletons, waiting for a sign that the cake was safe to eat. Not that stalling would really help. Either way, he was going to be eating the cake—Sans would see to that, no doubt—but he wanted the chance to at least brace himself.

The other skeletons were less than helpful. Sans took a bite and beamed at his brother, but he was—heh—a biased judge. Blue and Rus were similarly unhelpful, more interested in interrogating Sans than in eating themselves. Paps looked to Red and Edge, only to raise a brow-bone. He’d hoped that Red, at least, might be of some help, but Red didn’t appear to have tried his cake yet. Instead, he was staring at his brother, while Edge seemed pretty intent on pretending that he hadn’t noticed.

Huh. Well. That was weird. Paps looked between the two, trying to catch Red’s eyelight, but he only managed to draw Edge’s attention. Edge raised a brow-bone. “Something the matter, Ashtray?”

Paps glanced at the other three, who were still pretty involved in their own conversation. “nah,” he said, focusing on Edge again, “just—“ He was about to make a pun, then swallowed it down, remembering that he was trying not to irritate Edge. Unfortunately, now he had no idea how to finish that sentence, and Edge’s brow-bone was just creeping higher as the silence hovered awkwardly between them. “you know. eating cake.” Edge eyed him and the uneaten cake.

“…I see.”

“ya takin’ dieting advice from boss, stretch?” Red asked. Edge’s features hardened, and his hand tightened around the edge of the table, but he still didn’t look at his brother. “ ‘cause tha’s not gonna end well fer ya.” Paps’ sockets widened a little. That seemed. Harsh. Red wasn’t even looking at Paps as he said it. He was still staring down his brother. What was wrong with him? And why was Edge just sitting back and letting his brother take digs at him like that?

When Edge didn’t respond, Red’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth—but Paps asked, “you haven’t touched yours either, kiddo. something i should know?”

Red turned to face him, though he kept glancing at his brother. “nah. cake’s fine. recipe’s kinda weird, but it’s good. ‘less blueberry an’ creampuff decided ta get creative.”

“No,” Edge said, “They performed adequately.” He took his fork and cut off a corner of the cake. He seemed to study it, then nodded to himself once, and took a bite, head slightly cocked as he considered it. Then he nodded again and almost-smiled. Leaning forward, he said, “Rus. Blue.” When they turned to him, he said, “You did very well. Good job.” He offered a more in-depth critique after, and the sweeter skeletons beamed at him, practically purring under the praise. The criticism they took more seriously—Rus even dug a battered-looking notebook out of his inventory and scribbled a few notes—but didn’t seem offended or at all hurt by Edge’s honestly.

Paps thought suddenly—guiltily—of the first few times Blue had attempted to make tacos. The taste had been…indescribable, and the magic felt oddly lumpy—which, as far as he knew, shouldn’t have been possible—as it incorporated into his soul. But Paps had just smiled and nodded and said they were perfect. Blue’s pleased grin had been worth it, though. Or, at least, that’s what he’d believed at the time. Looking back, he had to wonder…had Blue’s smile dimmed after he’d taken a bite of his own cooking? Had Blue known his brother was lying to him? And if he did…had Paps saved him any pain, or only managed to hurt him more? Blue’s cooking had eventually improved but not because of anything Paps had said or done.

A new thought suddenly struck him, too, after seeing the younger brothers’ reactions to Edge’s words. Did. Did Edge’s praise hold more value than his? Edge was a harsh judge, maybe—he critiqued them on things that Paps wouldn’t have even considered, like the ‘crumb’ and texture of the cake—but he was honest in his criticism…and his complements.

Paps’ soul suddenly clenched, and he played absently with his fork, no longer hungry. It would be rude not to eat, though, after the others had worked so hard. So Paps took a bite. His sockets went wide immediately. Eating Fell-verse food was a bit like taking a punch to the soul. In a good way, for the most part. Eating Tale-verse food was smoother and easier…but ultimately, not quite as satisfying. Eating food prepared by both Fell and Tale-verse monsters? That was an entirely different experience.

The Fell-verse intensity was there—the magic reached a bottleneck before it could incorporate fully into his soul, spilling out to chase through the mana-lines deep in his bones like lightning. However, it was tempered by the Tale-verse influence, seeping smoothly into his soul and causing his body to warm evenly and completely. In essence, it was the best of both worlds—and the experience was only enhanced by the flavor.

Blue had told him it was a gingerbread cake, so Paps had been expecting it to taste something like the cookies Muffet baked at Gyftmas. He was not prepared for the perfect balance of sweet and spicy flavors, or the way the peppery-heat lingered on his conjured tongue after swallowing. _fuck,_ he thought—this was not like any kind of cake he’d ever had, but it was _amazing_. Then he realized Edge and Red were both staring at him. Edge then looked away, covering his mouth as he tried not to laugh. Red grinned. “ya want some alone time with the cake there, stretch?” he asked.

Paps realized—“i said that out loud, didn’t i?”

“It wasn’t so much what you said, as how you said it,” Edge explained wryly, and Red snickered while Paps blushed. Edge noticed immediately, his almost-smile turning into a predatory smirk as he leaned forward. “Don’t be embarrassed, pet. Your enthusiasm is _precious_.”

The effect of his words, expression, and tone was both immediate and embarrassing; Paps’ soul constricted and his eyelights blew wide as magic pooled in his mouth. That was bad enough, but then the bite mark on his sternum grew suddenly searing, and he could feel a shadow of the possessive intent Edge had infused into the mark. Edge’s sockets widened and his eyelights contracted before flaring bright and hot.

 _shit—he_ felt _that!_ The mark had transmitted Paps’ emotions to—

Paps suddenly stood, drawing everyone’s gaze. “i. um. i’m going to get something to drink. anyone want anything?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets so that no one would see them shaking. Rus and Blue both requested milk, while Red and Sans just held up their condiments to show they needed nothing. Red eyed him suspiciously but didn’t seem to understand what he’d seen. Paps briefly made eye contact with Edge, but the Fell monster said nothing. As he went to fetch the drinks, Paps waited to hear Edge’s chair pushing away from the table, waited for the kitchen door to open behind him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Edge to join him in the kitchen or not, torn between desire and dread. Maybe Edge’s feelings were just as confused as his own, though, because he didn’t follow. Paps honestly couldn’t decide if he was relieved or disappointed.

He washed his face and hands in the sink, breathing deep and slow to calm himself. Then he grabbed a few glasses and the jug of milk before returning to the dining room. By now, Edge, Blue, and Rus were talking animatedly about cooking techniques. Other than a brief glance his way, Edge seemed pretty determined to pretend nothing had happened—the light dusting of red on his cheekbones the only sign that he was at all affected by what had passed between them. Well, that was fine by Paps; he had no intention of pursuing anything at the dining room table either.

After serving Blue and Rus, he settled back in his chair and resumed eating, now that he knew it was safe. The younger brothers’ chatter was soothing and comfortable, and the warmth that lingered in his bones from the food was equally welcoming. When he finished eating, he put his head on the table, chin cradled in the crook of his arm, and settled in to watch the more animated skeletons talk. Sans was just as drowsy, leaning against his brother even as Rus complained affectionately about his laziness.

Red, however, was just as alert and aware as ever. It was…actually a little odd. He’d eaten slowly—more focused on shooting Edge annoyed looks than on the cake. Edge had noticed too. There was no way he couldn’t have, but he was doing his best to make it seem like he hadn’t. He wasn’t exactly ignoring his brother. Not really. Was it possible to avoid someone sitting right next to you? Because that’s what it felt like Edge was doing.

Edge had shoved the napkins at Red when he got whipped cream on his mandible—“Don’t you dare wipe that off on your shirt, runt.”—and if Red butted into the conversation, then Edge would respond. He wouldn’t meet his brother’s gaze for more than a moment, though, and he was giving Red _far_ more leeway than he would normally allow. Rather than gleeful at the leniency, Red was just getting more and more irritated. This only grew more obvious when the group collectively moved to the couch to watch TV.

There was not enough room on the couch for six skeletons, even if three of them were what Sans referred to as “fun-sized”. Blue, Rus, and Sans were happy enough to sit on the floor, though, using some of the floor cushions Blue dragged out of the closet—made soon after their first multi-universal get-together, when it became obvious that there wasn’t enough seating for everyone. As soon as Edge and Paps were settled on the couch, a healthy amount of space between them, Red smirked and teleported between them.

Edge sighed, and said—soft enough that only Red and Paps could hear—“Wouldn’t you rather sit with your boyfriend?”

“nah. big brother’s hoverin’.”

Edge sighed and pinched the ridge of bone between his sockets. He didn’t say anything, though, and Paps suspected that he had plenty to say in response to that. Instead, Edge refocused his attention on the television screen—where Napsttaton was interviewing himself about his recent record release, going so far as to put on a blond wig and shift to the other side of the loveseat to play the ‘reporter’ character. It was pretty obvious that Edge wasn’t so much watching the program as he was using it as a reason to _not_ watch or interact with his brother. Even when Red narrowed his sockets and shifted so he was slouching against the armrest, his hips resting across Edge’s legs.

Edge had gone very still when Red rearranged himself, but other than taking a deep breath, he didn’t outwardly react to his brother’s new position. Paps kept glancing between them and the Napsttaton program—it was actually pretty funny, even if the humor was unintentional—but Red wasn’t even pretending to watch the show. He was just glaring at the underside of Edge’s mandible, arms crossed.

Okay. Paps had been trying to let them work things out between themselves, he really had, but _what the fuck was Red doing?_ Why was he deliberately trying to piss Edge off? That wasn’t going to end well—for anyone. Edge wasn’t so petty that he’d refuse to stay based on his brother’s behavior, but…. Stars, Paps was _trying_ to put the edgelord in a good mood, and Red was fucking it up!

Frowning, Paps gripped Red’s ankle and pulled him across the couch until he could hook Red’s legs over the other armrest, leaving Red’s head in his own lap. “what are you doing?” he hissed, trying not to alert the skeletons on the floor to the activity on the couch.

Red wasn’t so reserved. He crossed his arms behind his head and shrugged. “nuthin’,” he said, making no effort to keep his voice down. “tryna get boss riled up enough that he’ll actually tell me what ‘is fuckin’ problem is.”

Rus and Blue had, until then, been quietly discussing Napsttaton’s interview and newest album, and Sans had been napping. Now the sweeter skeletons went quiet and still, and Sans slowly sat up. Edge sighed deeply, one hand covering his face as he said, “My apologies, Sans, but I’m going to have to strip you of your title. You are no longer the most annoying monster in this universe. I warned you the competition was fierce.”

Sans grinned and shrugged, leaning against Rus. “nah. it’s cool. i understand. he is pretty annoying.”

“Unbearably.”

“so, boss? what’s yer deal?” Red asked loudly, earning a low growl from Edge.

“Red,” he said, that growl still permeating his voice, “I have already said everything I needed to say. The decision is yours now.”

“whoa, wait a minute—what?” Paps asked, looking between the two of them.

Red smirked as he sat up. “didn’ ya hear, stretch? boss left it up ta me. i get ta decide if we’re stayin’ er not. ain’t that just _great_?” he asked, starting to growl himself.

Edge still refused to look at him. “Between the two of us,” he said haltingly, hands curled into fists, “you are the one least equipped to deal with the challenges of Underfell. For reasons we discussed. So, the decision is yours, because you are the one who has the most to lose if we remain there.”

“yeah,” Red replied, “ ‘cause yer so well-adjusted. even managed ta eat a whole piece ‘a cake tanight. didn’ switch our plates er nuthin’.”

“…Edge?” Blue tried to meet Edge’s gaze, but Edge wasn’t looking at any of them now. He’d turned his head to the side, but the light from the television highlighted the embarrassed flush on his cheekbones.

Edge took a shaky breath, obviously upset—but Paps couldn’t tell if it was anger or sadness or something else entirely. “What do you want from me, Red?” he asked tiredly, “I am _sick_ of being angry with you, but you’re making it very difficult not to be.”

Red settled beside Edge and jabbed a finger in his direction, causing Edge’s sockets to narrow. “i want ya ta admit that i’m not the only one that would do better in a tale-verse. this ain’t jus’ about me—an’ i want ya ta admit ta it.”

Only now did Edge turn to face him, mouth twisted into a sneer. “Do you honestly think I don’t know that?” He pointed to his scarred socket. “I can _see_ the results of our lifestyle every time I look in a damn mirror, runt. I didn’t think I needed to affirm the fucking obvious for you. But fine. Yes. We would both benefit from living in a more peaceful universe. Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make this easier for you?”

Red seemed surprised at the easy confession. He threw his hands up and asked, “then why doncha wanna stay here? i jus’—i don’ _get_ it! why would ya _want_ ta stay in that hellhole?”

Edge hooked his fingers beneath Red’s collar and dragged him close. “For the last time. It. Doesn’t. Matter. I will not sacrifice your _well-being_ for—“ He took another shuddering breath before releasing Red, sitting with his arms crossed and his gaze focused on the far wall. “It’s your choice, brother. Now, stop harassing me, or I am going to lose my patience.”

It looked like Red was far from finished, but Rus intervened. “CHERRY,” he said brightly, “WHY DON’T YOU SIT WITH US?”

“ ‘m fine, creampuff,” Red said, still glaring at his brother.

Rus sighed. “I REALLY DIDN’T WANT TO HAVE TO DO THIS, BUT YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE.” With that, he scooped Red up and promptly carried him off.

“uh? creampuff? where er ya takin’ me?”

Rus sighed deeply. “MUFFET’S. I TOLD YOU. I DIDN’T WANT TO HAVE TO DO THIS, BUT I THINK IT MAY BE NECESSARY IN THIS CASE.”

“Careful,” Edge cautioned, “I’m pretty sure she’s got a thing for Papyrus-es. She tried flirting with me earlier.”

“NEVER FEAR, EDGY-ME. I AM WELL-VERSED IN DEALING WITH MUFFET. SHE’S A LITTLE HANDSY, BUT SHE CAN ACTUALLY BE QUITE SWEET ONCE YOU GET TO KNOW HER.” The door shut behind him, leaving the others in stunned silence for a few moments.

“was that a pun?” Paps finally asked.

Sans, however, stood and stretched, feigning a calm that wasn’t reflected in his too-bright eyelights. “so, uh, blue? you guys hang out at muffet’s often? thought that wasn’t your sort of place.”

Blue cocked his head slightly before shaking his head. “No. Usually, if we want a drink, we go to Grillby’s over in Hotland.”

Paps and Sans both turned to stare at him, sockets wide. “blue!” Paps said, “grillby’s is a _dive_ —why would you go there for _anything_?”

Blue shrugged. “He doesn’t water down our drinks. And Muffet might be happy to send you home stumbling, but she cuts us off after two.” At their expressions, he crossed his arms and lifted his chin challengingly. “We aren’t _drunkards_ —“ The ‘like you two’ was strongly implied. “—but we are allowed to relax every once in a while.”

Paps was too busy imagining his brother—his sweet, gentle little brother—fending off the swipes and pawing hands of drunk bar patrons, all while intoxicated enough to be vulnerable to such clumsy seductions, to really function properly. Sans looked equally poleaxed, but his concern was more immediate. “excuse me—“ he started to say, but Edge grabbed him by his hoodie and yanked him back onto the couch.

“Let them be, short-stuff.”

Sans’ eyelight flared. “my brother is—“

“Fine. He can handle himself, and if he runs into something he _can’t_ handle, the runt can either provide backup or he can shortcut them out of there. Besides, Red’s pretty wound up at the moment, and the creampuff is one of the few people that can unwind him. You, on the other hand, will only rile him further. Leave them alone.”

Sans still looked pretty unnerved, but Edge had a firm grip on him; he wouldn’t be getting free anytime soon. “so. what’d he mean, then? about muffet? and if not swap-muffet, then—?”

“I’d guess he was referring to your Muffet,” Edge said wryly. “I certainly hope he wasn’t referring to mine, or he’s going to have to explain his definition of ‘sweet’.” Edge suddenly cocked his head slightly, then his mouth twisted and his ducked his head, shoulders shaking.

“Edge?” Blue asked, worried, “Are you okay?”

He nodded but still didn’t speak. It took Paps a moment to realize that he was trying not to laugh aloud. “what’s so funny, edgelord?” he asked.

“I-it’s not,” Edge said, choked by laughter, “It’s _really_ not funny. It’s horrible, but—“ He clapped a hand over his mouth, still trying to hold in his amusement. And failing.

“what?” Sans asked, caught between worry and amusement. “what is it?”

Edge shook his head again, but another query from Blue forced him to finally say, “A-apparently—“ He snickered, hand over his sockets. “Stars, this is awful. But. Apparently. That’s a Papyrus thing.”

Blue and Sans exchanged a look, completely lost. Paps, however, understood immediately. “stars, edge, that’s not funny!” he said, even as he felt himself grin. He couldn’t help it. It felt like a valve had been turned in his chest, releasing tension. In a very inappropriate way, but releasing it, nonetheless. “that’s _really_ —really not funny!” he said, starting to giggle.

“I know!” Edge choked out, “It’s awful, but—!” He finally broke out into real, honest laughter. Paps followed soon after, even as the two Sans-es looked on, completely befuddled. Edge reached out and caught Paps’ shoulder, leaning on him as they laughed. Soon enough, they were pressed side-to-side. Edge had caught him by the back of his neck and had his face tucked into Paps’ shoulder while Paps had one arm looped around his lower back. Poor Sans was trapped between them as Paps clutched at Edge’s humerus for support, neither of them able to hold himself upright.

It took them a while to settle down, and every once in a while they’d catch the other Papyrus’ eyelight, and they’d start snickering again. Even as he chuckled, Paps couldn’t help but feel ashamed for laughing in the first place. It wasn’t funny. It really wasn’t. Paps couldn’t begin to imagine what Muffet had done to Edge, recently or in the past, but it was wrong to compare such treatment to the Tale-verse Muffets’ relationships with their respective Papyrus-es _and laugh about it_. It wasn’t funny. At all.

But.

_(“You killed three of my guards, you worthless gutter-rat!” Said with barely concealed humor behind the faux-outrage.)_

What else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t something that could be fixed or taken away, short of—

_~~(—his mind hazed, something hovered on the borders of his conscious, distinct but unknowable, unintelligible, nonsensical—)~~ _

—time travel. And no matter what Sans said about time and space being more malleable than they appeared, he simply couldn’t accept that as a realistic possibility. (Alternate universes were more than enough for him to deal with, thank you very much.) Besides, they weren’t really laughing _because_ of what had happened…but in spite of it. It was a challenge. A big ‘fuck you’ to the ones that had dared to hurt them. It wasn’t funny, but sometimes, you just had to laugh. To show the world you weren’t broken. To piss off the person that had tried to break you.

Sometimes, you laughed just to prove that you still could.

Leaning into Edge, Paps closed his eyes and sighed, taking comfort in the other monster’s solidity. He expected Edge to push him away, but the Fell monster pulled him closer instead. Edge had angled himself so that he was partially leaning on the armrest, keeping Sans tucked against his chest while Paps pressed against his uninjured side. Edge squeezed his clavical supportively, thumb playing absently with the collar hidden beneath Paps’ sweater. Apparently deciding to just go with it, Blue jumped up onto the couch and cuddled against Paps’ other side.

Sans squirmed a little, either uncomfortable or uncertain. “so. no, heh, no chance you’re gonna let me go, huh?”

“Nope,” Edge said. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn’t offer any further explanation. Then, more gently, he added, “Red needs a friend right now, Sans. Let Rus be that for him, alright?” At that, Sans’ sockets widened marginally and he looked away. The tension had gone out of his shoulders, though, and he wasn’t fidgeting anymore.

“besides,” Paps added, “sounds like rus isn’t as innocent as you thought, if muffet already got her hands on him.”

Sans’ eyelights went out immediately, and Edge sighed. “Damn it, Swapshit. I was trying to calm him down, not wind him up.”

Then, to both their surprise, Sans leaned back, lounging against Edge. “nah. don’t worry about it, edgelord. ‘sides, if that’s a papyrus thing…then maybe paps should ask blue about his relationship with grillby.” He winked at the two Papyruses. “and your queen toriel, too. and—“

“OKAY SANS THANKS FOR HELPING I’VE GOT IT FROM HERE!” Blue said, loud and fast. He smiled nervously up at his brother. “Um. I. Uh.” Then, he swallowed and drew himself up. Looking his brother straight in the socket, he said, “I’m a grown adult. I’m careful and-and safe. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Paps initial reaction was a mix of outrage and even a thread of anger. Of course Blue owed him an explanation! There were monsters out there that would take advantage of a sweet, innocent monster like Blue—even in a Tale-verse. His brother hadn’t mentioned that he was in any kind of relationship with anyone, and Blue—he wasn’t—he deserved—he—!

He wasn’t some _sweet-piece_ to be casually fucked and discarded immediately afterward!

After the initial anger faded, though, he recognized the flaw in his thinking. Sitting back, he exhaled slowly and put a hand over his sockets. Paps himself used sex as a means of escape. Maybe it wasn’t exactly a healthy attitude, but he and Muffet—or whatever monster he decided to hook up with—were consenting adults. Neither of them wanted anything more than a causal friendship with occasional benefits. They’d made their arrangement with their eyes open, and they’d defined things clearly from the beginning. Maybe it wasn’t ideal. Maybe he knew that, one day, he would want more—a steady relationship with a monster he loved. But. There was nothing _wrong_ with his casual relationship with Muffet. It helped him relax, helped him get out of his own head—and she wasn’t exactly complaining, either. It was mutually beneficial, and they certainly cared about each other, even if not romantically.

How could he possibly justify holding Blue to different standards? It wasn’t his place to dictate what kind of relationships—be they platonic, romantic, or sexual—his brother was allowed to have or who he was allowed to have them with. Blue certainly knew his own mind, and he was, in many ways, more mature than Paps himself. Finally, hand still clamped over his sockets, he exhaled and asked, “you’re, uh, you’re happy?” He peeked between his fingers. Blue nodded, confused and a little uncertain. Paps continued, “no one’s pressured you into doing anything you didn’t want to do? you, um, you enjoy—?“ He could not believe he was having this conversation. “you enjoy yourself?” Stars above, couldn’t he have found a better way to ask if this was really what his brother wanted? That sounded—weird. Really weird.

Blue went, well, blue. Still, he didn’t look away or back down when he replied. “Yes,” he said, firmly, “I. I, uh, I take care of myself and-and my, um, my partners as well. Everything is, um. Is agreed upon beforehand, and uh, mutually enjoyable.” His blush had only grown brighter as he spoke, even if his posture and stance remained strong and steady. Paps lowered his hand but clutched the edge of the couch. He wanted nothing more than to run screaming from the room and jump out the nearest window. There was still a part of him that insisted his little brother was too innocent to even know what sex was!

That part of him was clearly an idiot.

Clearing his throat, he said, “welp. that’s. uh. that’s great, blue. just. great. now, i’d, uh, i’d really like to change the subject. and. maybe never talk about this ever again.”

Blue nodded fervently, glowing bright enough to serve as a night-light at this point. Edge, however, smirked. “Too bad. I was enjoying hearing about the little blueberry’s sexual exploits. I wonder if he’s as adventurous in bed as he is outside of it.” He looked Blue up and down appraisingly, causing Paps to promptly cover the other monster’s sockets. Edge, chuckling, pushed his hand away.

“not in front of me.”

Sans grinned broadly. “so, he’s fair game, as long as we don’t make you watch?”

Paps was about to reply, but Blue beat him to it. “Not if you refer to me as ‘fair game’,” he said stiffly, chin up and arms crossed. “I respect my partners and expect the same in return.”

Edge reached behind Paps to hold out his hand. Blue obligingly low-fived the proffered appendage. “Good for you, pipsqueak. Standards are important.”

Coyly, Blue smiled at him and said, “You know, Edge, you meet all of my—“

“OKAY!” Paps said, scooping Blue up, “TIME FOR BED NOW.”

“His or mine?” Edge asked, earning a glare from Paps and a giggle from Blue.

Deciding that a strategic retreat was his best option at this point, Paps ignored the two monsters on the couch and carried Blue upstairs, asking what story he’d like before bed. Not before flipping both Sans and Edge the bird, though. It. It really was fine. But.

Stars, give him a chance to adjust! Cripes!

 

As soon as Paps and Blue disappeared into Blue’s bedroom, Sans said, “so. i guess _you_ don’t need a bedtime story, do you?”

Edge turned to stare at him. “A _what?_ ”

Sans rubbed self-consciously at his humerus. “yeah. didn’t think so.” He looked down at the ground, dejected. After a few seconds of silence, he asked, “you, uh, you wouldn’t want one, would you?”

“Why would I—?” Then Edge took a look at Sans, and reminded himself that Paps probably wasn’t the only monster having trouble letting his baby brother grow up. For once, Edge was _almost_ grateful Red had been semi-catatonic for a few key years. That, at least, had tempered some of his overprotective tendencies. (‘Almost’ being the key word. There was a price for every blessing, after all, and that one had been quite costly. For both of them—and Muffet too, now that he thought about it.)

“Sure,” he said eventually, looking up at the ceiling and _knowing_ he was going to regret this. “Fine. What do you usually read?”

“uh—“ Sans squirmed a little, trying to rearrange himself so he could get a better look at Edge. “ ‘peek-a-boo with fluffy bunny’, usually, but sometimes i’ll read a puzzle book or—and we can—whatever you want, right? i mean, i know you’re not papyrus. my papyrus, i mean.”

Peek-a-Boo with Fluffy Bunny. The storybook title startled him somewhat. It was the same book he’d managed to scavenge all those years ago, the same book he’d read to the runt while he’d been comatose. He probably had it memorized, even now. Swallowing, he said gruffly, “The bunny story is fine.” As he stood—guiding Sans to his feet, rather than just dumping him on the floor, as he might have done with Red—he added, “If you tell anyone about this—”

“don’t worry, edgelord,” Sans said with a wink, “i won’t tell a _soul_.” His smile seemed genuine—for once—though, and that was reason enough to let the smaller monster follow him into the spare bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: inappropriate/hurtful comments regarding Edge's eating disorder. 
> 
>  
> 
> I'm back from vacation and ready to write! The next chapter is going to be from Paps' perspective again, I think--that's why the bonus scene at the end there wasn't lumped onto the beginning of next chapter.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! (And hope you liked the bit of Kedgeup at the end there.)


	29. The problem with Underfell...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which insomnia is also a Papyrus thing, and Tabasco will serve if Sriracha is not available.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in the end notes.

Paps woke suddenly, bones covered in sweat and breathing hard. He sat up, trying and failing to still his trembling. The memory of his nightmare was already slipping from him, but the scent of crushed petals and chlorophyll seemed to linger with him—as did the feeling of hands on his wrists and ankles, and the sensation of his spine being bent backwards to expose his ribcage. He bowed at the waist and cupped his elbows in the opposite hands as he tried to calm his breathing. He did not want Sans to see him like this. It was bad enough that Blue had been forced to comfort him in the past—he did not need to involve another Sans in his personal problems.

Climbing off the mattress and kicking the sweat-soaked sheets to the floor, he realized that Red was also in the room. While Sans was resting on an unrolled futon, Red was simply wrapped in a blanket on the floor. Frowning, Paps turned his soul blue and guided him gently onto the mattress. Paps probably wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, so someone might as well make use of the bed. He was a little surprised to see Red, honestly, but Sans probably would have flipped his shit if Rus and Red had shared a room, even with Blue to chaperone, and after their argument, the Fell-verse brothers probably needed some space.

Red shifted a little after Paps set him down, but otherwise didn’t stir. Still trembling, Paps tiptoed out of the room, taking care not to disturb either Sans. In the hall, he let out a shaky sigh and leaned against the wall. The dream felt so _real_ , and the aftereffects lingered, even if he could only remember bits and pieces. He rubbed his wrists, trying unsuccessfully to soothe away the sensation of clinging hands. That part, of course, was real enough.

_(“That’s right, sweet-piece. Struggle for me.”)_

Sucking in a breath, he snaked a hand under the collar of his shirt to dig his phalanges into the bite mark on his sternum. He sank his fingertips deeper and deeper into the wound until the pain blotted out the bad thoughts. Still leaning against the wall, bones trembling and breathing hard, he tried to keep his focus on the pain and the coolness of the plaster against his cheekbone. Slowly, slowly, his breathing began to even out. He pulled his fingers away, a little startled to find the tips were coated in fresh marrow.

Closing his hand into a fist, he swallowed and tried to figure out what to do with himself. Normally, he would go outside and chain-smoke until he stopped shaking, and then he would go to Muffet’s and lose himself in sex or honey or both. That was not an option right now, and that left him at a loss—he didn’t even want to go outside for a cigarette. Going outside alone felt…dangerous. Unsafe.

He clenched his jaw and closed his sockets, frustrated with himself. He’d been getting better! He’d been out by himself for a while after the Sans-es ditched him in Waterfall. He should be able to do this, and he should be able to go to Muffet’s, and he should be able to—

He took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled slowly. One day. One day, he would be okay again. He wouldn’t feel like this forever. He just. He needed to be patient with himself. It wasn’t going to be easy—and he shouldn’t expect it to be easy. _(“What happened isn’t your fault.”)_ Reaching up, he brushed away the dampness on his cheekbones—sweat or tears, he honestly wasn’t sure—and decided that he was way too sober for this. And he certainly didn’t need to go to Muffet’s to get a drink!

He almost stopped to check on Blue and Rus before heading downstairs. Seeing that Blue was safe and sleeping soundly would reassure him, but he didn’t dare. Blue was a light sleeper on a normal night, and Rus just. Didn’t sleep. When he and Blue had their sleep-overs, Rus usually managed to stay calm and quiet for about four hours each night, but last night was the first time Paps had ever seen him actually _asleep_ —apparently, spending most of the day projecting had managed to wear out the endlessly energetic skeleton. On another night, Paps might have deliberately sought comfort from his brother, but right now, he felt raw and worn. Perhaps he wouldn’t have gone to Muffet’s anyway; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be around other monsters right now.

Deftly avoiding the creaky stair, he padded across the living room with a glance at the spare room door. It was cracked open just slightly, since the frame hadn’t been repaired yet. No sign of movement from the edgelord, though, which was also good. After what had happened earlier in the evening…Paps wasn’t sure he was ready for a one-on-one talk with Edge just yet. Slipping into the kitchen, he flipped on the light and shut the door quietly behind him. Then he threw open the pantry and started rummaging around for the honey.

He withheld a sigh when he couldn’t find it. Blue, of course, had a system for organizing the pantry…but every time Paps thought he got the system down, it seemed to change. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that Blue was deliberately shifting things around on him to make it more difficult to find his favorite vice. Either that, or Blue was using the pantry to practice his puzzles. That seemed a little more likely, but then again, Paps clearly had a lot to learn about—

“You’re either up very early or very late,” a wry voice observed from the kitchen door, causing Paps to startle. He spun on his toes, flailing rather gracelessly. Edge just raised a brow-bone. “You really need to work on your situational awareness, Swapshit.”

“you need to work on not sneaking up on people!” Paps hissed, which only caused Edge to snort derisively.

“I was hardly ‘sneaking’. You’re looking for honey?”

Unsettled and—heh— _on edge_ , Paps looked away, arms crossed. “yeah.” Then he glanced at Edge and asked, “wait. why are you up?”

“Same reason you’re awake, I imagine,” Edge said, slipping past Paps to survey the pantry.

“nightmare?” Paps asked, surprised. Then Edge slowly turned to stare at him, and he had to work hard not to facepalm. Stars _damn_ his mouth—and the broken filter between mind and mouth that _everyone else_ seemed to possess. “i mean—“

Turning back to the pantry, Edge waved him off with one hand as he grasped the honey in the other. “Please, don’t try to rescind your honesty. I find it refreshing.” Rather than hand the honey over, he ducked down and pushed aside the canisters of flour and sugar. “I do need to revise my answer, however. I don’t think I’ve actually slept long enough to dream, and at this point, it’s almost pointless to keep trying. There it is!” He drew another bottle out of the pantry as he said the last.

Paps eyed it and him. “is that tabasco sauce?”

“Stars, I hope so,” Edge said, setting both bottles on the counter.

As he pulled a pan out of the cabinet, Paps raised a brow-bone and asked, “edgelord, what are you doing?”

“If we’re drinking, we’re going to do it like civilized people—not straight from the bottle.” Paps, still off-kilter from his nightmare, almost asked Edge why he thought Paps wanted company. Then he took in Edge’s posture and the way he moved, really _looking_ at the other monster. His shoulders were set, almost like he was preparing himself for battle, and he was keeping his hands busy, too—either gathering what he needed for whatever it was, exactly, he was doing or straightening and rearranging anything near at hand. On the surface, Edge seemed in control, but little signs like that betrayed his anxiety.

Closing his sockets, Paps swallowed down his objections and reminded himself that Edge had plenty to be anxious about. Not only were he and his brother fighting—though, honestly, _what_ they were fighting about was rather unclear from the outside—but Edge was also facing the possibility of moving to an entirely new universe. A universe with new social rules and an entirely different outlook on LOVE and love. Even if the move was wholly beneficial and could only improve their lives…that was still a daunting prospect. Sure, Underfell was hell…but it was a familiar hell. Edge had never made much of an effort to explore the Tale-verses or get to know their inhabitants. Aside from the handful of multi-universal get-togethers that Rus and Blue had organized, Paps had only even seen Edge once or twice. He probablyd hadn’t spent that much more time in Undertale, either. There’s no way that someone like Edge would adjust seamlessly to a Tale-verse either, and no way that the move itself wouldn’t stress him out.

So, Paps leaned against the wall to watch Edge measure out milk and heat it in the pan. Anticipating Paps’ puzzlement, Edge said over his shoulder, “I can at least tell Blue that I managed to get some calcium into you.” With that, he poured out a very generous measure of honey and stirred it into the warm milk. When it was incorporated, he poured the pan’s contents into a mug and garnished it with a cinnamon stick before passing it off to Paps. For himself, he put ice in a glass and poured Tabasco sauce over it.

Only at that point did it occur to Paps that Tabasco was, apparently, Blue’s drink of choice. Cupping the mug between his hands, he allowed the heat to sink into his bones as he stared into its contents. What else had Blue hidden from him, afraid of Paps’ overreaction? He pressed the mug against his sternum, his shoulders curling inward.

It hurt to realize how much he didn’t know about his brother—more so because Paps was the reason Blue felt compelled to conceal so much of himself. For so long, Paps had refused to see that his brother was a capable, competent adult. Sure, Blue had some childish tendencies…but perhaps he had simply decided not to abandon those parts of himself, as most adults did. And…if he allowed himself to consider that Blue might not be as happy as he always appeared…then wasn’t it also possible that Blue took some comfort from getting a nightly bedtime story? Or from playing with his action figures? Allowing himself to mentally return to a place and time when he didn’t have quite so many adult concerns and fears?

Even in the Tale-verses, life Underground was sometimes hard. The weight of the rock hanging overhead was sometimes so oppressive…. They all did their best to ignore it, to carry on and pretend that it didn’t really bother them, but Paps had seen the reports. He knew how many monsters had simply Fallen Down, lack of hope pushing them to just…let go. Paps himself had felt the pull, but Blue had always managed to bolster his hope and draw him back from the edge.

Did Blue know that? Paps had always tried his best to conceal that truth from his younger brother, but now he had to wonder…did Blue realize how much Paps depended on him? What did it feel like to have the weight of two monsters’ wellbeing resting on his small shoulders?

Edge caught his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. “Are you alright? What’s your—“ He stopped himself, features unreadable.

Swallowing, Paps looked away. “i’m fi—“ He took a breath. “not doing so well right now, actually. you?” He grinned, as if he’d said something funny, though he hadn’t.

Edge shook his head, briefly closing his sockets. “Not great. Terrible, actually.” They shared a look and chuckled.

“couch?” Paps suggested and Edge acquiesced. Following him into the other room, Paps mentally assured himself that he and Blue would work things out. Paps had a few hang-ups to get over, and both of them had a few secrets that probably shouldn’t be secrets anymore. They’d be okay, though. They’d work it out. It just. It hurt to uncover wounds he hadn’t realized existed.

Settling on the couch with his legs tucked up under him, Paps took a drink of the warmed honey and milk mixture—and grinned, genuinely this time. “if you do move here, muffet could hire you as a barten—“ He cut himself off, sockets widening as he realized exactly what he’d just said. “stars, edge, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—“

“Don’t you dare tiptoe around me,” Edge said sharply, sitting on the other side of the couch. For a moment, he remained stiff and unyielding, then he bent a little, allowing himself to lean against the back of the couch at an angle, so he was facing Paps. More gently, he said, “The runt cracks jokes about her—and me—all the time. Probably just to rile me up, but my point stands. I do not want to be coddled, and if you start, I’ll hit you over the head with a brick.”

Paps couldn’t help it; he snorted. “a brick, huh?”

“Don’t test me,” Edge warned imperiously, though he was almost-smiling now. “I don’t make idle threats.”

“yeah,” Paps observed sagely, “you’ve probably got one in your inventory for situations just like this, right?”

“Care to find out?”

“pass. pain’s not my thing.”

“Could have fooled me,” Edge said and touched his sternum. Paps mirrored the move and felt the mark sting beneath his fingers. “There’s marrow. On your shirt.”

Paps looked away and took a gulp of his drink. “that’s, um. that’s different,” he finally said, curled in on himself.

Edge just grunted and sipped his own drink. After a few moments of silence, he eventually said, “I’m sorry. For marking you without your consent. I didn’t intend….” He gestured loosely but trailed off, apparently unable or unwilling to pursue that line of thought aloud.

“no!” Paps said, a little more forcefully than he’d meant. Taking a steadying breath—and a sip of his drink—he said, more calmly, “no, don’t, um, don’t be sorry. i.” Another drink. “it…it makes me feel…safe. when i—“ He touched his sternum, not looking at Edge.

Scooting closer, Edge took hold of his hand and pulled it away, phalanges resting on his carpals as his thumb stroked soothingly over the metacarpals. “Then I’m sorry you no longer feel safe in your own home.”

A raw chuckle. “that’s not your fault.”

“I was supposed to protect you.”

Paps briefly squeezed Edge’s hand before pulling away. “you did, actually. ‘cause of you, muffet told them not touch me, and technically—“ His voice cut out as his throat constricted. Swallowing, he said, “it would have been worse, if not for you. besides, i should have been able to protect myself.”

Edge just shook his head, leaning back to sip his drink. “That’s not how it works in Underfell. Perhaps it’s different in the Tale-verses, but in Underfell, allies are vital. It’s why the gangs are so prominent, and why being in the guard is such a coveted position. It’s why weaker monsters…gentler monsters…ally themselves to more ruthless monsters. And.” More softly, he said, “It’s why I told Snowdrake to stick close to his brother. No one can make it on their own in Underfell—not for very long, at least. Being in a gang or joining the guard provides you with an entire network of allies. People you can trust to have your back in a fight. If you are valuable to them, of course. Failing that, then they can at least be relied on to take revenge on your behalf when you fall.” A bitter smile. “They are always happy to have the excuse to shed dust.”

Paps stared at him as Edge took a long drink, trying to wrap his head around what he’d just heard. The only thing he could really fixate on was—“is that why you asked muffet to-to dust madjick and knight knight?”

“Is that who—?” Edge asked, a low growl permeating his voice. Only at that moment did Paps realize that Edge had ordered the death of two monsters _without even knowing who they were._ He took a big gulp of honey. Stars above. He might better understand Edge, but that kind of ruthlessness was still sickening. Paps could separate the person from the act now, but…stars, he didn’t want Edge to have to issue those kinds of orders or make those kinds of decisions anymore. Perhaps sensing that Paps was uncomfortable, Edge took a deep breath, and when he next spoke, his voice wasn’t as harsh. “Yes. If I could not protect you, then I had to at least avenge you. Doing otherwise would have been a sign of weakness.”

Paps stared into his mug and twirled the cinnamon stick in the milk. He debated with himself, then finally said, “you don’t. you don’t have to answer, but…it’s been bothering me.” Actually, he’d been making a deliberate effort not to think about it because he’d found it so disturbing. “when i—“ He took a drink. “when i came back for you—you were holding muffet’s soul, and she was….” Stars, he still couldn’t reconcile the utterly broken creature he’d seen with the venomously sweet monster he’d left Edge with. “what did you do to her?”

For a while, it didn’t seem like Edge was going to reply. He bent forward, elbows on his knees as he stared into his cup, rolling it between his hands. It took Paps a moment to realize that Edge was shaking. Alarmed, he reached out, then reminded himself that this was _Edge_ , not Rus, not Blue, not even Red; he wouldn’t necessarily appreciate the physical contact. So he allowed his hand to drift back down. Gently, he said, “you don’t have to tell me. it’s okay. i mean, i know you would only do what you had to—“

Edge laughed bitterly, and he went suddenly, preternaturally still. “No,” he said, his voice a low growl once again, “I should tell you. If we’re going to be living here, you should know what kind of monster you’re inviting into your home. It’s only fair.” Paps was somewhat stunned by the anger, the self-loathing that seeped from Edge’s words.

Unable to do anything else, Paps again reached out. “edge—“

His hand was batted away unceremoniously. “Don’t. I don’t deserve—“ He sneered, claws flexing around the cup. “I altered her soul, Swapshit. I tied her down, and I forced her to manifest her soul. She begged me not to. _Begged_ me. And Muffet—“ He laughed bitterly. “—Muffet does not _beg_. Then, when I had it in hand, I—“ He ducked his head and covered his sockets, starting to shake again. “I projected all the pain and hatred and _fear_ she ever made me feel. When I was…hers.” Voice soft, and full of self-recrimination and -hatred, he said, “I may as well have raped her; it might have been kinder.”

Paps eyed him and said, quietly, “that’s not rape, edgelord. that sounds like justice to me.”

He was not prepared to be speared by one of Edge’s penetrating glares. “Yes,” he said sharply, “and perhaps Undyne should cut off one of my hands. And I should break her ribcage. It would only be _just_ , wouldn’t it?” Looking away again, Edge said quietly, “Justice like that is the reason Underfell is the way it is. ‘Justice’ is what Asgore claims he’s seeking. Justice for what was done to his son. Justice for our wrongful imprisonment. Justice untempered by Mercy is just revenge with a pretty name, Swapshit. What I did to Muffet makes me no better than her—arguably, it makes me worse. It makes me no better than Asgore.”

The Tale monster had no idea how to respond to that. There was definitely a thread of truth in Edge’s words, but Paps still couldn’t agree with him. “so, why did you do it, then?” he finally asked. Edge turned to him, disbelief in his gaze.

“What does it matter? Whatever my reasons, she’s still going to suffer the aftereffects.”

“because i know you wouldn’t have done it if you thought there was another, better option.”

For a while, Edge just stared into the middle distance, phalanges tracing the rim of his glass. Finally, though, he said, “I couldn’t kill her. That would only ignite a turf war as the other gang leaders fought over her territory. I couldn’t injure her seriously for similar reasons—any sign of weakness would have been blood in the water for those sharks.” He swallowed and said, voice small, “But I had to do _something_. She wouldn’t have stopped. And if not her, then someone else. Simply letting her go would have been a sign of weakness…and the sharks would have started circling _us_. This way…she’ll back off, and the dust delivery will publically demonstrate who won our little spat. It will establish a new pecking order, but she will remain strong enough in her position that her competitors will hesitate to take her on. It was the best option I had at the time. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He laughed a little. “And, of course, it’s all pointless now. If we’re going to—“ He shook his head. “I should have just left her alone.”

But Paps remembered what Edge had said before releasing Muffet. _(“Next time you decide to break something, mind you don’t cut yourself on the edges.”)_ “you know, edge, when i’m judging someone, one of the things i consider before passing judgment is how likely the offender is to repeat their offense. i’m more inclined toward mercy if they’re repentant. is it possible that muffet will hesitate before doing something like…what she did to you…to someone else, now that she knows what it feels like?”

Edge leaned back, and Paps could tell that he hadn’t actually considered it from that angle. “I don’t know,” he finally said, “Maybe. Do you think even the worst person can change?”

For a while, Paps didn’t say anything. Then, quietly, he said, “i hope so.” He went to drink, but his mug was empty. Seeing that, Edge held out his hand and took the mug back into the kitchen. When he returned, he’d refilled it and his own glass as well.

They sat in silence for a time, each quietly drinking and thinking their own thoughts. Less than a week ago, Paps couldn’t have imagined sitting with the edgelord like this, being this comfortable in his presence. Emboldened by the effects of the honey, he leaned against Edge’s uninjured side, figuring that Edge would simply push him away if he wasn’t welcome. Unexpectedly, Edge lifted an arm and draped it over Paps’ shoulders. Then he started to project /Security/Control/Strength/Stability/, and Paps practically melted into his side, immediately starting to purr.

He allowed the projected feelings to sink into his soul. It anchored him in the present, bound him to the moment. After his nightmare, after everything that had happened in Underfell, that sense of security and safety—the sense that _someone_ had control of the situation—was so welcome. It was exactly what he needed, and he basked in the sensation, tilting his head to lean on Edge’s shoulder. “thank you,” he said, voice unsteady from the purring.

Edge chuckled, amused. “I feel I should be thanking you, pet. What you said was…helpful.” He ran a few phalanges down Paps’ cervical vertebrae.

“i. this shirt doesn’t cover it. the collar, i mean. so i had to take it off,” Paps found himself explaining. “it’s in my inventory.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “do you…do you want it back?”

Still—for lack of a better term—petting him, Edge just shook his head. “If it’s helpful to you, then keep it. It’s certainly not serving anyone by sitting in my inventory.”

Squirming a little, suddenly unsure of himself, he asked, voice small, “do you…do you think it’s weird. that. that it helps?”

Edge laughed quietly. “I am hardly in a position to judge your coping mechanisms, Swapshit. Except the smoking. I do not approve of the smoking.”

“you and blue both.”

“I could offer some tips for quitting, if you’d like.”

Paps chuckled. “what would you know about—?” Then he looked up at Edge, sockets wide. “no,” he said, “ _no_.”

Edge rolled his eyelights and admitted, “Undyne broke me of the habit.”

“stars above, i do not believe—really?!”

“Asgore’s fucking flowers, Swapshit, I thought we’d established that I wasn’t exactly well behaved in my youth. Or now, really.”

Still grinning, Paps asked, “so, how’d undyne get you to quit?”

“She threatened to break my fingers if she ever caught me. Then she caught me.” He winced. “We didn’t have to repeat that little song and dance more than…twice. I was a little stubborn.”

Paps face-palmed. That whole story was horrifying, but Edge told it like it was meant to be funny, and it was really screwing with him. “stars, edge, i can’t—you know how fucked up that is, right? stop trying to make me laugh at things that aren’t funny!” Even as he said it, he was starting to chuckle.

“I’m sorry, were you under the impression that Undyne and I had a healthy relationship? I thought the fact that I _maimed her_ was enough to convince you that Fell friendships are kind of fucked up.”

Paps snorted, trying not to laugh. “stars above, i can see why red isn’t exactly her biggest fan.”

As soon as he said it, he realized that he really probably shouldn’t have mentioned Red. Edge went quiet immediately, though he didn’t stop his projections and his fingers were still playing over Paps’ cervical vertebrae. Despite the shift in mood, Paps couldn’t quiet his purring, and it seemed unreasonably loud in the sudden silence. Edge, of course, noticed. He smirked and deliberately started to toy with the sensitive cartilage between Paps’ vertebrae. “You know,” he said, “I didn’t believe you, at first, when you said that it was easy to get you to purr. I see now that I was mistaken to be skeptical.”

Glad that he wasn’t lingering on thoughts of Red, Paps grinned and said simply, “yep. i’m easy.” Edge just rolled his eyelights at the bald innuendo. Then Paps said faux-casually, “you know, you never did tell me how to get _you_ to purr.”

“That’s privileged information, Swapshit. I don’t just hand it out to anyone who asks.”

“not even if i ask nicely?” Edge just shook his head, though he was obviously fighting down a grin. “hmm,” Paps said, snuggling even deeper into Edge’s side, “guess i’ll just have to figure it out for myself then.”

Edge chuckled, stroking the top of Paps’ skull. “You know,” he said, “you ought to be more cautious. If you keep coming on to me like this, I might start to think you’re serious.”

There were probably a million more appropriate ways to respond to that. Instead of choosing any one of them, Paps leaned back and tilted his head up to lightly touch his teeth to Edge’s in a chaste kiss. Edge’s sockets went wide, and magic flooded his features, causing his cheekbones to burn red. Paps traced a phalange over the flushed bone. “there. i had to up my game; you’ve gotten so used to the flirting, it doesn’t make you blush anymore.”

Edge just stared down at him, momentarily paralyzed. “I—“ Just as Paps was really starting to second guess himself, though, Edge growled and yanked him up by the front of his shirt. He pressed their teeth together. A warm tongue swept out and licked into Paps’ mouth, stimulating the magic that had pooled there. Pulling back, Edge snarled, “If you’re going to kiss me, do it properly, Swapshit.”

The mark on Paps’ sternum flared to life, but it wasn’t searing this time. Instead, the soft heat spread outward, causing his soul to pulse and spark. He gazed at Edge, startled and delighted and nervous—and grinning like an idiot. “wait, sorry. i wasn’t taking notes. show me again?” he asked. Edge obliged with a smirk, just as thorough and dedicated in this as he was in any other aspect of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: non-explicit mentions of Paps' experiences in Underfell, some internalized victim shaming, mentions of domestic violence treated humorously (more of that dark humor that really isn't funny), unhealthy coping mechanisms, some self-harm, and just generally trying to deal with the aftermath of the Underfell arc as best as everyone can. 
> 
> It's not a dark chapter, but it is a heavy chapter, I'd say. And there is plenty of comfort to soothe away the hurt. 
> 
>  
> 
> Mild spoilers below. If you came down for the trigger warning, read no further.
> 
>  
> 
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> 
> So. About time, right? ; )
> 
> We also have a lovely piece of artwork inspired by this chapter, from the wonderful CheapBourbon. [Check it out!](http://cheapbourbon.tumblr.com/post/164961841384/wait-sorry-i-wasnt-taking-notes-show-me)
> 
> The next chapter is probably going to be out in about a week or so, and it will probably be the last chapter with the main cast. For our epilogue, we're going to be taking a trip to Swapfell, and that will likely be more hurt than comfort, so I'm considering it 'optional', since I'm not exactly thrilled about ending on such a sad note.... Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this piece!


	30. Knitted back together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sometimes, you have to break something before you can fix it, and Red makes his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in the endnotes.

The heat of Paps’ mouth, the taste of him—the lingering hint of honey and cinnamon mixing with the spark of his native magic—was far more intoxicating than any condiment could ever be. The magic Edge had imbued into the mark only heightened the effect. Through it, he could sense Paps’ rising desire, and that fanned the flames of his own. He pulled Paps closer, until he was very nearly in Edge’s lap, and kept one hand on one of the slighter monster’s iliac crests while the other gripped his cervical vertebrae. The mark pulsed, Edge’s magic spreading warm heat across Paps’ bones.

An idea suddenly struck Edge, disturbing in its implications. “Wait,” he said, pulling away. He was a little breathless, and Paps’ eyelights were hazed as Edge tried to hold him off long enough to get the words out. “The mark. I’m not—I’m not influencing you, am I?”

Paps shook his head, surging forward again. “don’t worry, edgelord. i’ve wanted you for a while now.” He drew his hands up from Edge’s shoulders to press his thumbs against Edge’s mandible, tilting his head back. Edge’s soul pulsed, a little anxious at feeling so exposed. Paps leaned forward and planted a light kiss on the edge of his jaw. “didn’t the flirting cue you in?” His tongue lightly teased the bone, causing it to warm as raw magic swept across it.

“I didn’t think you were being—“ Then Paps licked _up_ into the underside of Edge’s jaw, stimulating his tongue and the inside of his mouth from below. Edge tried to muffle an undignified noise, the hand he had planted on Paps’ iliac crest tightening until he worried that it must be painful. Stars, he had not been expecting that! Paps chuckled, probably amused by Edge’s attempts to silence himself, then moved lower, his teeth and tongue working on Edge’s cervical vertebrae.

It felt good. _Very_ good. Edge could only stare up at the ceiling, panting as he tried to get his thoughts back in order. Fleshy monsters never really seemed to know how to stimulate bone that wasn’t covered by skin and muscle, but Paps knew exactly what he was doing…and it was starting to rouse Edge’s anxiety as well as his desire. Ingrained instinct urged him to push back against the other monster, to secure their hands, to take control of the situation, before they could take control of him. He could not allow himself to be vulnerable, even in an intimate moment—and Paps was making him feel very vulnerable: teeth at his throat, phalanges on his jaw, and his mind growing foggy with desire.

Such instincts had served him well in the past, but for the first time, he wanted to cast them off and _allow_ himself to just…let go, to enjoy without fear. But his soul was starting to twist with anxiety and his desire was starting to cool as a result. Eventually, perhaps, he would be able to trust enough to let down some of his walls. Not today, though, not right now. He didn’t want to treat Paps the same way he would treat another Fell monster either. It wouldn’t feel right. “Wait,” he said, “Stop.” And, then, for a soul-shattering moment, he was certain that the other monster wouldn’t.

 _ ~~He shouldn’t have said that. Saying ‘no’ was just another way of showing weakness. It only gave the other person another weapon to hurt you with,~~_ _~~and it gave them a reason to do so. He shouldn’t have said that H E   S H O U L D N ’ T   H A V E   S A I D   T H A T—~~_ ~~~~

Then, even before Edge’s fighting instincts could be roused, Paps pulled away and pressed his forehead to Edge’s shoulder, panting a little. “sorry,” he said, “you’re right. you’re right. too much. too fast. i just—got carried away. sorry.” Then he turned so that he was once again tucked into Edge’s side, still purring quietly though Edge had stopped projecting. Keeping his face tucked into Edge’s shirt, he said, softly, “going slow is…probably a good idea. all things considered.” He lightly placed a hand over Edge’s, thumb stroking over the metacarpals.

Meanwhile, Edge had to clamp his mouth shut, trying to keep quiet. Relief and shock flooded him. Edge said ‘stop’. And. Paps had stopped. Edge hadn’t been forced to fight the other monster off, or acquiesce to demands he wasn’t prepared to meet—he hadn’t even had to growl or threaten or perform any other kind of threat display to convince Paps to stop. He hadn’t even asked for an explanation! Fuck, he’d even _apologized_ for moving faster than Edge was prepared for!

Edge was just. Stunned. And grateful. Stars. He didn’t even know what to do with himself now. So, he just pulled Paps closer, folding around him, and started projecting again. “Thank you,” he whispered, without really intending to.

Paps’ purring just grew louder, and he basked unselfconsciously in the waves of /Control/Strength/Stability/Security/ that were the best approximation of projected affection that Edge could manage. “for what?” he asked, voice slightly slurred.

“Just. Thank you.” Blessedly, Paps was willing to let it drop. Edge could have explained, but then Paps would have given him that Look. Like he wanted to bundle Edge up, tuck him away, and shelter him—and Edge didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be coddled or pitied or protected. If he really thought about it, Edge would say that all he really wanted was…to be respected, rather than feared, and maybe, to feel safe. He could be happy, he thought, if he was allowed those two things.

A thought whispered through him: he could be happy, living in a Tale-verse. He could have those things here. Not immediately, perhaps, but in time. The thought was almost frightening because…he _did_ want that, despite the insistent part of himself that said he wasn’t allowed, that he didn’t deserve that kind of happiness or peace. Undyne wouldn’t consider it a betrayal. Hell, if she ever found out he’d so much as hesitated before accepting an invitation to leave Underfell, she’d kick his ass on principle. Living in a Tale-verse would be good for Red. And himself. It would benefit both of them. He was just being ridiculous. There was no reason for the sudden tightness in his chest, like bands were being locked around his soul. This was a _good thing_. For the best. It was—

He squeezed his sockets shut, trying to keep his breathing even so as not to alert Paps to his distress. He forced the thoughts from his mind and focused on the warmth of the body pressed against him, the pulse of his soul, the ebb and flow of magic as he continued to project. He wrapped an arm around Paps’ chest, pressing a hand over his sternum, above his soul. Paps brought a hand up overtop Edge’s own, lacing their fingers together. He focused on that and on Paps’ breathing, trying to match his own to the steady, even breaths. By the time Paps fell asleep, Edge was a good deal calmer, but his soul still ached.

The stair creaked, and he turned his head, already instinctively gathering his magic. Red gazed coolly back at him, and Edge dropped the magic, lifting one hand to his mouth to signal the need for silence. Red just raised a brow-bone, unable to see Paps from the staircase. When he came around the couch, though, he looked between Paps and Edge, his features inscrutable. He didn’t say anything, but it was pretty obvious that he had no intention of returning to bed without having a talk with his brother.

Sighing, Edge rolled his eyelights, then carefully shifted Paps so he was laying on the couch. He grabbed a blanket as he stood, then draped it over the other Papyrus. Grabbing their discarded cups, he returned them to the kitchen, confident that Red would follow. As soon as the door clicked shut behind the smaller monster, Edge asked, “Why is it I can’t get you to stay awake when you’re supposed to be doing your job, but you’re apparently more than happy to run around doing who knows what at four in morning?”

“pro’ly ‘cause i’m tired from runnin’ around at four a.m. doin’ who knows what,” Red replied. Edge sighed deeply and muttered under his breath while he washed out his glass and Paps’ mug. Honestly, he’d walked into that one; he should know better by now. Red sidled up alongside him, leaning against the counter. “so. you an’ stretch looked pretty cozy out there. anything ya wanna tell me?”

Stilling his hands, Edge said, “Runt, if you start interfering where you’re not invited, then I’m not going to bother trying to keep Sans off your back.”

Red’s sockets widened. “wait. you—?”

Edge was _not_ going to tell Red that he’d allowed Sans to read him a stars-damned bedtime story. (Much less that he’d listened quietly and attentively the entire time, consumed by memory.) Red would never let him hear the end of it. “What do you want, runt? Or were you honestly roused by the sudden fear that your little brother might actually be enjoying himself?”

Red surveyed him critically. “didja fuck ‘im?”

“Did you fuck the creampuff?”

Magic flooded Red’s features. “ _boss!_ ” he hissed, rubbing self-consciously at his humerus. Eventually, though, he looked away and said, “fine. point taken. i’ll stay outta it.”

“Good. So?”

Blush fading, Red hopped up onto the counter so they were almost at eyelevel. “wanted ta talk ta ya.”

“Obviously,” Edge said, hip pressing against the counter. “Though I don’t see why this couldn’t have waited until morning.”

“ ‘s four _a.m._ , boss; it is morning.” Edge just rolled his eyelights and muttered, ‘smartass’ under his breath. “it’s about movin’ here. i was talkin’ ta the creampuff an’—“

But Edge was pulling away. “I thought I made it clear I was finished talking about this, runt.”

Red’s sockets narrowed. “yeah, well, i’m not. look, would you just—“ He reached out and grabbed hold of Edge’s wrist. Then before either of them really knew what had happened, Edge had Red’s hand pinned, and he’d wrapped a hand around Red’s neck. They regarded each other for a few seconds, their sockets wide. Then, Red’s sockets narrowed and he looked Edge up and down carefully. “boss, what’s yer status?”

“I’m fine—“

“that ain’t an answer, an’ you know it.” Red’s control hand was free, and he raised it now, summoning bones to block the doorway. Ensuring their privacy. Edge let go of his brother, shaken by his own actions. He still didn’t say anything, though. “boss. c’mon. ‘s just us here. what er ya ‘fraid of, huh?”

“I’m not—“ he snapped, then took a shaky breath as his phalanges pressed into his humeri.

“then ya shouldn’ have any problem tellin’ me yer status, right?”

Sockets closed and still hugging himself, he said, softly, “A and d….” As much as it painted him to admit, his emotions had been erratic recently, and he’d been fighting off a panic attack for a while now.

“there ya go, bro. that ain’t so hard, right? now, why doncha tell me what happened?”

His claws dug into his humeri. “It’s—“ He exhaled hard, frustrated with himself. “I don’t _know_ what happened! It—it doesn’t make sense! We’re safe here, and being allowed to stay here should be— This shouldn’t be hard! Any other Fell monster would _kill_ for this chance. I don’t know why I can’t—“ He ducked his head, shoulders drawn in toward his chest.

“easy, bro,” Red said, motioning him forward. “c’mere. ‘s okay. yer allowed ta be upset, alright? it’d be a big change fer us.” When Edge was in reach, Red held out a hand, but waited for Edge to accept it before he pulled his brother forward. He planted his hands on Edge’s shoulders and said, “are ya listenin’, bro?” Edge allowed his skull to drop forward, resting his forehead against Red’s, then he nodded, sockets closed. “okay. good. i wanted ta tell ya…‘m sorry fer some a’ the stuff i said. i, uh, i didn’ mean ta hurt yer feelings.”

Speaking softly and sockets still closed, Edge said, “I’m sorry for what I said too. I was just…angry and frustrated, and—I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry, brother, I didn’t mean to—“ He inhaled sharply and said in a rush, “That’s not true I did mean to hurt you I wanted to hurt you but I shouldn’t have I should be better than that I don’t want to be like that I never want to be like that I never—“ He cut off, a low whine building in his throat.

“shh. s’alright, bro,” Red said, squeezing his shoulders comfortingly. “i got over it. heh. thick skin, right?” Edge was too emotionally worn to pretend to hate his brother’s puns. “look,” Red said softly, “yer right. i shouldn’a gone ta asgore. not without talkin’ ta ya first, at least. we’re a team, right? ‘s how we’ve managed ta survive all these years. sorry if i fergot that.”

“I should have been more understanding,” Edge said quietly, “I know how difficult it is for you to Judge me. If I were more willing to compromise, then maybe you would have been more comfortable coming to me.”

“yeah. we’re both idiots.” They snickered a little at that, and Edge brought his arms up to properly embrace his brother. “where ‘er ya at, bro?” Red asked, rubbing his scapula comfortingly.

Edge wanted to say ‘s and r’, or even ‘s and c’…but he couldn’t lie to his brother. Not about this. “The same.”

“okay. s’alright. like i said, yer allowed ta be upset. now…can ya tell me _why_ yer upset?” Edge didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to. It was stupid. It really was. He just needed to let go of—

“Told you,” he said, the barest trace of his accent present. “Doesn’t matter.”

Red took a deep breath and squeezed his scapulae tightly. Almost painfully. “bro, i’m tryin’ ta be patient here, but i gotta say…if you tell me yer opinion doesn’t matter _one more time_ , then i’m gonna lose it. ya understand?”

“But it doesn’t—“

“p a p y r u s,” he said sharply, causing Edge to flinch. “i mean it. this is about you jus’ as much as it is about me, ya got that? ‘cause whatever ya may think, i ain’t gonna be happy ‘less yer happy too.”

“I’d rather you were alive and unhappy than dead,” Edge said, some of his customary growl present in his voice.

This time Red flinched. “aw, bro…i ain’t tryna kill myself. if things were really that bad, i’d jus’…you know. fall down.” That was another thing they just didn’t talk about. Red’s semi catatonic depression. He hadn’t Fallen Down, but it was a close cousin. The threat loomed over them, though—would it happen again? Could he recover from that a second time? Or would he just Fall Down?

“You’re not allowed,” Edge said, “I forbid it.”

Red snickered. “welp, glad tha’s settled then.”

“I mean it,” he said, wrapping his arms more tightly around his brother. “I couldn’t handle it again. I just. I can’t, Sans.”

“okay, bro. cripes. no one’s fallin’ down. or tryna kill themselves. i promise, alright?”

He dragged in a breath as one of the bands around his soul seemed to loosen. But—“Then why are you so reckless? Even if you’re not trying to get yourself killed, that’s what’s going to happen if you continue on as you are.”

Red sighed and leaned back. “i jus’. i dunno, bro. ‘s hard ta talk about.”

“Try.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and said, “ ‘kay. ‘s like this, alright? sometimes…nuthin’ feels real. like…there’s no consequences. like nuthin’ i do matters. tha’s all. i ain’t tryna kill myself…it jus’ feels like it wouldn’t matter if someone else did.”

Edge tilted his head back and let out a slow breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“dunno. i jus’…s’not like ya could do anything ‘bout it.”

Leaning forward, he set his arms on the counter on either side of Red and bent his elbows until they were socket to socket. “Sans. I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?” Red nodded slowly. “It matters. _You_ matter. You matter to me. And you matter to Rus. And Slim, and Paps, and Blue—and even Sans, if we get down to it. If you ever start to feel like you _don’t_ matter, I need you to come talk to me. Even if you think there’s nothing I can do to help. Even then, Sans, because _I need you_. We’re partners, right? So I need to know what’s going on with you before I make any decisions because—and I’m not saying this to hurt you, Sans, I’m saying this because I know it’s the only thing that’s going to get through to you—if I can’t depend on you, then you’re not the only one that’s going to suffer the consequences. We’re in this together. We live and die _together_. Do you understand me?”

There were tears in Red’s sockets, but he was nodding fervently. “ ‘m sorry, boss. i didn’ mean ta—“

“Hush. No more of that. It’s done, and you’ve already been forgiven for it. All I need you to do now is learn from it, Sans.” Knowing it was cruel, but knowing that sometimes, a little cruelty was necessary, Edge took Red’s hand and pressed it to his broken ribcage. He grit his teeth against the pain as he allowed Red to feel the heat of the matrix still wrapping his bones, the unnatural give of his ribcage. “Remember this,” he said softly, “next time you think your actions don’t have consequences.”

Red bowed his head and nodded, tears sliding down his cheekbones. “okay, boss. i promise. i’ll remember, an’ i’ll talk ta ya, if i start feelin’ like that again.” Then he lifted his head, and he wiped his face with the heel of his hand. Raising his chin truculently, he said, “so? we talked ‘bout my problem. ‘s yer turn now, bro. why er ya upset?”

 _Fuck_. He’d honestly sort of hoped Red had forgotten. He really should have known better. “I—“ His throat closed up and he shook his head. It was stupid. It was _so stupid_. _He_ was stupid. Stupid for feeling this way. Stupid for _thinking_ this way. At least the pipsqueak and the creampuff had an excuse. What was his?

“bro,” Red said, a low growl permeating his voice, “if ya don’ start talkin’, then i’m gonna have ta take drastic measures. an’ i know ya hate that. so. ya have ta the count a’ ten. one. two. eight.”

“You—ugh, cheater!”

Red just smirked. “nine.” Fuck. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even find the words. “ten.” Red surveyed him. “cripes, bro. ya must be more worked up over this than i thought.”

Under his breath, he muttered, “You could have at least given me a real count of ten.”

“tch. you an’ i both know i don’ play fair. so? ya gonna make this easy fer me?”

“No,” he said, sullen.

Red chuckled and cracked his knuckles with a wink. “tha’s fine. i get it. ya wanna make big brother do all the work. ‘s cool. don’ worry, bro—i got ya.” Edge growled and began to reply, but his protests were transformed into a muffled screech when his soul was pulled unceremoniously from his chest. For a few moments, it hovered between them, and Edge just stared, sockets wide. No matter how many times Red did that, he was never prepared.

Then, despite his efforts to keep his head up, his gaze dropped and he looked away. Stars, his soul was ugly. His LV had caused the surface to calcify, and the scratches and scars stood out all the more for it. Red cupped it between his hands, and Edge cringed, his soul completely desensitized to any kind of contact. Stars forbid he should ever want to soul-bond with someone. He wasn’t sure it would even be possible.

Knowing what was coming, he allowed himself to slip to the floor, folding his legs underneath him. Red obligingly hopped down from the counter and stood before him, one hand cupping Edge’s soul against his sternum and the other cupping his brother’s face. “ya ready, bro?”

No. “Just get it over with, runt.”

Red drew his hand away from Edge’s face so that he was again cradling his soul in both hands. First, he ran his thumb gently over the surface, though Edge couldn’t feel it. Then, he started to tighten his hold, until Edge was panting and holding himself up with one hand. Stars, it _hurt_. Red was talking, but Edge couldn’t really hear him. His entire being was intent on his soul—the pain, the mounting pressure. Red’s grip grew even tighter, and Edge pressed closer to the floor, the borders of his vision going fuzzy. His exhalations grew ragged and shallow as it became harder and harder to breathe. “yer okay, bro. almost there, i promise,” he thought he heard Red say, but it was so hard to focus.

Then, just as Edge was on the verge of passing out, he heard—and felt—a resounding _crack_. He nearly sobbed in relief as the pain abruptly cut out. A ray of light spread across the floor in front of him, and he looked up. The bone-hard surface of his soul had split, creating a narrow crevice that revealed the radiant core underneath.

Red’s thumb ran along the edges of the crevice, and Edge could feel himself shaking. This was worse than walking into a fight without his armor. Worse than standing naked before an enemy. Stars, the ugliest parts of himself were on full display—as were the most vulnerable. Before he could work himself into a panic, though, Red’s thumb dipped into his soul’s core, and Edge was laid out on the floor once again, this time because he could feel his brother’s wonder, his adoration. Stars, it was dizzying. Overwhelming. Shame welled up and he bit back a whine, uncomfortable knowing that he was loved so deeply.

“yer amazin’, ya know that?” Red asked, and Edge shook his head, not really thinking about his response. “nuh-uh, bro. none a’ that. no room fer lies, now. an’ yer a stars-damned _wonder_ , papyrus. do ya know how many souls i’ve seen? how many i’ve had ta judge? an’ not one a’ ‘em looked like yers. not one a’ ‘em had even _half_ the hope you’ve got. fuck, pap. ya _shine_.”

Red wasn’t quite able to project the same way that Edge could, but since he had direct contact with the core of Edge’s soul, he didn’t need to. Unchecked admiration and affection— _love_ , the word they didn’t speak except in all caps—poured directly into his soul. It was a little like being drugged. A little like being held. Mostly, though, it was like being stripped bare and studied…and ultimately judged to be worthy. It was both wonderful and terrifying. Gradually, the instinctive fear was stripped away as the feelings of love and care and affection wore away at it. Slowly, what he felt began to match up to what he _knew_ logically but sometimes had difficulty convincing himself of.

He was safe right now.

His brother loved him dearly, even if he wasn’t always good at showing it.

Even if he was ashamed of certain parts of himself, those were not the parts that defined him.

Finally, the things that made him ‘weak’ were also the things most worth preserving.

A low, stuttering purr started up in his chest, and his brother knelt down beside him, shifting him so that Edge was resting his skull on Red’s shoulder and one arm was looped behind Red’s back. “there ya are, bro. how er ya feelin’?”

“s ‘n r,” he slurred on a sigh, nuzzling into his brother’s hand when Red reached for him.

“heh. yep, sure looks like it. ya think yer ready ta talk now?” Edge grunted an affirmation and nodded his head. Red released his soul, and it returned to his chest immediately. The loose, relaxed feeling lingered, though. “so, as i was saying, las’ night, i was talkin’ ta the creampuff.” Almost absently, he said, “ya know, sometimes i ferget how much you two have in common.” Red scratched his coronal suture, and Edge sighed quietly. Red grinned, the expression gentle despite his sharp teeth.

“anyway, i was gripin’ ‘bout you, ‘cause i jus’, couldn’t figure ya out. ya admitted that it’d be best fer both of us ta stay here, but i could tell ya didn’ wanna. didn’ know why though. not ‘til creampuff says, ‘maybe edgy-me’s jus’ worried about everyone else!’. do ya know how fuckin’ stupid i felt, when i realized he was right? i was _pissed_ i hadn’t seen it sooner.” He closed his eyes and brought their foreheads together. They remained that way for a few minutes. Edge, slowly shaking off the lingering effects of the soul manipulation, shifted so that he was essentially holding his brother. His purr had already fizzled out, and his eyelights were no longer as unfocused. “ya don’ wanna abandon ‘em, do ya?” Red finally asked.

Edge clenched his jaw, but he relaxed when he realized there was only honest curiosity in Red’s question, no recrimination or anger. Voice a soft rumble, he said, “Snowdin is my territory, Sans. I’m supposed to be responsible for them.”

Red shook his head slowly, but not in denial. “i’m tryna understand, boss. i really am, but i jus’—i don’ get it. ya try so fuckin’ hard, an’…the place is still a shithole. why d’ya even bother?”

Sighing quietly, Edge looked away. “The Drake brothers are finally out on their own,” he said conversationally, “I’ve encouraged Ice Wolf to give them work…but their father could still make trouble for them, if no one’s around to deter him. Dogamy and Dogaressa have been talking about having a pup, now that Snowdin is more stable. No one’s vandalized the Librarby in years.” He smiled wryly. “I think people are actually starting to return the books they’ve ‘borrowed’, too.”

“boss—“

Edge gave a one-shouldered shrug, aware he hadn’t really answered Red’s question. He took a deep breath before saying, “If monsters don’t feel like they have to kill to survive, if they can have a real safe zone—a place to live and work and start families—then…maybe they won’t keep killing each other. Desperate people do desperate things, Sans. If they had another option, though, they’d take it. That’s. That’s why I work so hard.”

Red shook his head, staring at him. “ya still believe in ‘em, doncha? i can’t— _how_?! cripes, boss, i’ve seen yer soul. i’ve seen the cuts an’ the scars. they’ve torn ya apart, an’ every time one a’ ‘em does sumthin’ ta disappoint ya, ta prove ya put yer faith in the wrong person, they jus’ cut ya deeper. how can ya still—?”

Scratching along Red’s coronal suture, Edge said, “You’ve seen their Tale-verse counterparts. Met them. Talked with them. Doesn’t that re-affirm for you that the monsters of our universe are worth saving? That they can be saved?”

“no!” Red said, a little desperately.

“Then what makes you think I am?”

“w-what? boss, yer—“

“The same as any of them, Red. You, better than anyone, know what the LV has done to me. You know the things that I’ve done to keep us alive. Are you really going to try to tell me I’m all that different from any of them?”

“yes!” Red snapped, starting to get angry, “none ‘a ‘em—” He was breathing hard now. “yer different. yer not like them,” he insisted, “ya still have hope! ya still believe—none a’ ‘em believe in _shit_.”

Edge sighed and pulled him closer, saying “I have hope because I can see a better way, and I believe that the monsters of our world would take that better way if it was offered to them.” Briefly tightening his hold on Red, he said, “The challenge is in marking out the path for them. You keep expecting instant results, Sans, but I knew it was never going to be easy. Progress might be slow, but there is progress. Things in Snowdin are better, if only marginally.”

Red clung to him, skull pressed to Edge’s sternum and arms around his chest, careful of his injuries. “ya can’t save ‘em, boss. ‘s too much, even fer you.”

Edge smiled sadly. “I know that, Sans. It’s worth it to try, though. Sometimes people will surprise you, if you give them the chance.”

Red sighed and looked up at him with wide sockets, his eyelights wavering. “we’re…we’re not going to be staying here, are we?”

That was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? Leaning back and tilting Red’s chin up so that he could look his brother in the sockets, Edge said, “That’s up to you, runt. I told you. This is your decision, and I will abide by it. I won’t sacrifice your well-being on the off chance that I _might_ be able to make things marginally better for them.”

“but you’ll sacrifice yer own?” Red demanded, magic guttering in his socket.

Edge caught his brother’s skull between his hands. “That’s my choice, Sans, and not one that I regret.” Drawing back, he said, “It’s nearly dawn. Are you going back to bed, or are you going to make a habit of rising early? This will mark the third day in a row I didn’t have to drag you out of bed to get up. What’s next? Going to join me for my morning run?”

Red grinned weakly, recognizing that Edge had signaled that he had nothing more to say. Apparently, this time, Red was finished as well. “nah,” he said, “the only runnin’ i’ll be doin’ is in yer dreams, boss.” Edge knuckled the top of his head affectionately, then pushed the smaller monster off his lap. Groaning, Red rubbed the back of his skull, where he’d connected with floor. “damn it, boss, why d’ya gotta be such a dick?”

Standing and stretching, he said, “I’ll make you a deal, runt—you stop making unfunny jokes, and I’ll stop being a jackass. How’s that?”

Sitting up, Red glared at him. “hey! fuck you; i’m hilarious. yer just a humorless asshole.”

“No,” Edge disagreed, leaning against the doorjamb, “Unfortunately, long exposure to your terrible comedy has managed to break my funny bone.”

They regarded each other silently for a few seconds. Then Edge cracked a smile, and Red burst into delighted laughter. Laid out on the floor, he covered his sockets, body shaking with the force of his laughter. “fuck! fuck, boss, that was—damn it, that was amazing!”

Still grinning broadly, he sat up, and Edge motioned him over. “Come on, runt. Let’s go back to bed. I know you’re tired, and I haven’t exactly gotten my usual four hours either.”

In the living room, Edge checked on Paps to make sure he was still sleeping soundly, adjusting the blanket to make sure his feet were covered. Red watched him, but—wisely—didn’t say anything. Unexpectedly, he followed Edge into the spare room, apparently intent on sleeping with him. That was fine with Edge; he knew he was always rather reluctant to let his brother out of his sight after handling his soul. As they bedded down, though, Red asked, “hey, boss?”

“We are sleeping now, runt. No more talking.”

“it’s not—jus’—“ He sighed. “would ya jus’ answer a question fer me?”

“What?”

“could ya…could ya be happy here? if we stayed?”

Pulling Red close, Edge said, gently, “Yes, Sans. I think I could be happy here. Now, go to sleep. That’s an order.”

“fuck, wait—can ya say that again? that last part? ‘bout sleeping? i wanna record it.” He got a pillow in the face for that.

 

“Papy~!” an exuberant voice called distantly, and Paps instinctively pulled the covers over his head, trying to hide from his brother. “Papy, it’s time to—wait. You’re not Papy.” More than a little confused now, Paps sat up, and realized that he was on the couch. Why was he—?

Oh. _Oh_. A warm flush colored his cheekbones, and he looked around, trying to locate Edge. From upstairs, Blue’s cheerful _mweh heh heh!_ echoed throughout the house. “That’s okay, you need to get up too, Sansy!” Paps turned to see Blue stroll out of his bedroom, cheerfully carrying Sans on his shoulders. Sans couldn’t seem to decide if he was amused or surprised by this turn of events, but didn’t seem particularly inclined to struggle or protest either. He waved when he saw Paps.

“heya, stretch,” he said.

Blue turned, lighting up when he saw his brother. “Papy! There you are! Why are you sleeping on the couch? Did you—“ Then Blue seemed to realize what had probably happened and he went quiet. He didn’t want to embarrass his brother by mentioning his nightmares. So he brightened and asked, “Did you sleep well?”

“sure, bro. any idea where the—um, everyone else is?” No need for anyone to know he was particularly concerned with Edge’s location.

Blue shrugged, jostling Sans a little. “Rus went out running a couple hours ago. He should be back pretty soon. I only just got up, but from the smell of coffee, I’d guess that either Edge or Red are awake already.”

As if on cue, Edge appeared in the kitchen doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands. Paps grinned when he saw him. “stars above, edgelord, if one of those is for me i’ll—“ He choked on his words, suddenly worried that Edge might regret their minor make-out session in the (artificial) light of morning.

Edge, however, just rolled his eyes and thrust the mug into his hands. He sat beside Paps, only a handspan of space between them. “This is your house, Ashtray—it’s _your_ coffee. Bribery is not required.” He studied his claws, then looked at Paps from the side. “Out of curiosity, though, what, exactly, were you going to say?”

Paps’ grin stretched wide. “honestly, i can’t remember. moment’s gone, and i sort of just say whatever pops into my head at the time. it was probably something embarrassing, though. like ‘kiss you senseless’ or ‘worship at your feet’ or—“

“no!” Red said loudly as he walked into the living room, “no!” He pointed at both of them. “just. stop. not in front ‘a me. cripes! are blue an’ rus the only ones with any decency anymore?!” To drive his point home, he sat between them—though, there really wasn’t any room, so it was more like he was sitting on them rather than between them. Sans watched the whole exchange with a growing smile, and it looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Actually, I think we’ve established that Blue’s decency is only a well maintained façade—“

“Hey!”

“—and Rus’ is in question.”

“i’m flattered you thought i was decent, though,” Paps said with a wink.

“Ashtray, no one in their right mind ever thought you were decent.”

“and i’m even more flattered that you always thought i was _indecent_. it’s the orange hoodie, right? really screams ‘sexy’.”

“No,” Edge said, “It was the khaki shorts.” Then he ran a toe up Paps’ tibia, magic sparking along the bone. He smirked when Paps inhaled sharply. “They really scream, ‘exploitable weakness’. Though the pajama pants don’t offer much more protection.”

He reached out to Edge, but Red caught his hand. “do either a’ ya understand what the word ‘no’ means?” he asked, sounding desperate.

“Runt, I’m offended. You know my feelings on the importance of consent.”

Red hopped up, covering the sides of his head. His cheekbones were flushed a vibrant red. “i’mnotlistenin’idon’needtaknowthisshitbosscripes!” he said as he fled the room.

Amused, Paps watched the door swing shut behind him. “so, does this mean you and red are good now? i mean, your, uh, argument is settled?”

Edge leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him. Sans sat down on the other side of the couch, his back against the armrest and his feet up on the cushion. Blue returned from the kitchen with a mug of coffee for Sans and a glass of milk for himself. “Yes,” Edge replied, while Blue surveyed the couch, apparently trying to decide how to arrange himself. “We settled things after you went to sleep last night.”

Sans grinned. “on the couch? wow, guys, a little kinky, huh? anyone coulda walked in on you.”

“We didn’t—!” Edge rolled his eyes and gave Blue a pained look. Blue waved him off, as if silently reassuring Edge that _he_ knew they wouldn’t do something like that. Then he seemed to come to a decision and took up Red’s previous spot, though he tucked himself a little closer to Paps than Edge.

“So, Edge,” Blue said slowly, “did you and Red make a decision? About, you know, staying here. Or in Undertale. Or-or you could even switch, if you wanted!” He was squirming a little, either nervous or excited or both. Paps put a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to settle down, but he too looked at Edge expectantly, a brow-bone raised.

Edge sipped his coffee. “Still Red’s decision. If he’s made it, he hasn’t informed me.”

Sans swallowed tightly, and behind his perma-grin, Paps could tell he was anxious. Blue sagged a little, disappointed, but he brightened a moment later, still hopeful. Paps, however, watched Edge carefully, taking note of his relaxed posture and easy mannerisms. It was a stark contrast to how tense he’d been yesterday whenever someone had mentioned moving. He couldn’t imagine what Red had said or done to settle his brother down, but Paps was immensely grateful to him for it.

Leaning forward, Sans asked, “so, what do you think—?”

Before he could finish his question, the front door banged open, and Rus walked in, still cheerful and energetic despite coming off a two hour run—and going out drinking with Red last night. He waved and wished everyone good morning before starting for the staircase, presumably intent on taking a quick shower. Then he stopped and walked over to stand in front of Paps and Edge. He studied them, brow-bones furrowed, then he grinned brightly. “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU TWO! STARS, THE TENSION WAS KILLING ME!” With that, he cheerfully started up the stairs, leaving a trio of flabbergasted skeletons in his wake. Blue just giggled, apparently unsurprised.

It wasn’t until lunch—after the younger brothers had spent the morning cheerfully arguing over puzzle theory and their elders had spent their time snickering over stupid jokes—that Red finally announced his decision. Being Red, he did it by casually saying, “so, boss, when er we goin’ back ta underfell?”

Sans went tense, and Blue and Rus moved toward each other, making Paps think that they were likely holding hands under the table. For his own part, Paps kept expecting Red to tack on a ‘so we can go get our stuff’ or something to the end of that question. Hoping that Red was just fucking with them—because Red was exactly that kind of asshole. Edge, however, just glanced up from his tacos and said, “I think my ribs will be healed enough to return tomorrow. Perhaps the day after, to be on the safe side.” Just as casual as his brother.

“okay, boss. sounds good ta me. ya…uh, ya think i should go apologize ta undyne?”

“I think you should stay as far away from her as possible for as long as possible, unless you’re eager to lose more of your teeth.” Red snorted and resumed eating. And. So did Edge. Like. Like nothing had happened. Like they hadn’t just decided—

It wasn’t until Blue said, brightly, “Papy! I just realized we’re out of milk. Can you come with me to the store? It’ll only take a minute!” that he realized his soul was starting to crackle with a mix of anxiety, disbelief, and horror.

They were going back. _They were going back!_

Swallowing tightly, he nodded once, and followed his brother out of the house. He was grateful for the cool air on his face. It made breathing easier. “Papy?” Blue asked, “Are you okay?”

He closed his sockets and shook his head. “no,” he said flatly, “i can’t believe—“ He inhaled sharply. “they can’t go back there, blue. they can’t. we can’t let them—“

Blue stopped him, a small skeletal hand in his larger one. “Papy. We have to let them make their own decisions. Even if we don’t agree with them. Maybe we don’t know the full story. Maybe there are things about them, and about Underfell, that we don’t understand. We just have to trust that they know what’s best for—“

“ _that’s ridiculous! going back to that hell isn’t best for_ anyone!”

Forcing Paps to lean down, Blue put his hands on his brother’s shoulders and said, firmly, “Brother. We can’t force them.” Smiling slyly, he said, “But we can give them plenty of reasons to stay, right? After all, no one ever said that they couldn’t change their minds.”

Paps stared at his brother, then grinned broadly. “bro, you’re brilliant, you know that?”

“Of course! I’m not called the Magnificent Sans for nothing~! Mweh heh heh!” For a few minutes, they walked in silence, then Blue said, “So, Papy, you and Edge are dating now?”

“eh. nothing as formal as that, bro. not yet, at least.”

“Oh. Okay.” He was quiet for a little while longer, then he asked, “So, um…how do you feel about sharing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: Unhealthy thoughts regarding consent, panic attacks, non-sexual BDSM, mention of suicide, mention of Falling Down.
> 
> Spoilers below, read no further if you just came down for the trigger warning.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> -carefully peeks from behind cover- So. You guys mad?
> 
> Uh, yeah, I know this probably isn't the ending that everyone maybe wanted, and it really is kind of bittersweet. However, I do believe that this is the ending that makes the most sense for the characters and the tone of the story.
> 
> But, you know, if you don't like Red's decision, Blue can be very persuasive.
> 
> Next up: Swapfell. Feel free to skip the epilogue if you want. It's. It's not a happy piece. So if you want to end on a bittersweet note rather than just a bitter note (damn it; this was supposed to be a happy story!), then don't feel obligated to read it. I do feel it offers a more complete picture of this multiverse, so I do feel it will be worthwhile to read...but it will be sad. And I'm sorry for that.


	31. Epilogue: Uncomfortable Parallels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which bones are broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if there are certain themes you have trouble with, go check the trigger warning.

Slim adjusted the earbuds stuck in his acoustic meati and cranked up the music until it drowned out the noise below. He walked along the rooftop ledge, hands in his pockets and sucker in his mouth. Despite his casual demeanor, he was actually keeping a careful eyelight on the rioters below and on his brother. Razz was busy organizing his guardsmen, trying to restore order to the marketplace. Later, they would have to determine what spark had set off the powder keg this time, but for now, they were plenty occupied just trying to keep the damage to a minimum. At least the fires were metaphorical. For now, at least.

He twirled the sucker over his conjured tongue, looking out over the streets and the rooftops. Trying to make sense of the chaos. His brow-bones furrowed as he saw a flash of orange and the glint of cyan magic before losing track of it in the gathered crowd. Taking a knee, making himself as small a target as possible, he called out, “CAPTAIN!” It hurt to yell, but he couldn’t be heard over the racket otherwise. “REBELS!”

Razz didn’t even look up at him, just continued to issue orders. Slim knew he’d heard, though; the guard swithed tactics immediately. No longer were they beating rioters back with shields and clubs. They’d summoned magic weapons now, sharpened with killing intent. Dust joined the blood already wetting the street. If Slim had any remorse for the loss of life, he pushed it back. Remorse could only be indulged after the killing was done. He didn’t move to assist, though. His magic was good for short, fast bursts, but he couldn’t sustain it the way his brother could, so he held off until—

There. Alphys had finally made her appearance, twin cyan swords clutched in either hand. She used one sword to point at Razz, and she started speaking. Slim couldn’t hear her over the music—a fast, harsh techno fresh from Napsttaton’s newest album—but he could imagine that she was giving some rousing speech about freedom and justice and blah blah blah. He raised a hand to summon a purple-eyed gaster blaster, using it to ram into her side. Hard. As Alphys toppled, the gaster blaster continued forward to snatch up one of her rebels—or a rioter; he couldn’t really be sure which members of the crowd were actual rebels and which were just civilians caught up in the rebel-incited riot—and he flung them against a wall.

None of his attacks would do much more than annoy the monsters below. All of them had plenty of LV for his KR to feed off of, but their HP was too high for the effect to be anything but negligible. So it was his job to sow fear and chaos, harrying and distracting them so that the hard-hitters could swoop in and clean up. Gaster might have felt that his first experiment was an abject failure, but he didn’t believe in waste either. He’d developed a fighting style and some artificial magics that suited Slim’s—limited—strengths and complemented Razz’ style. He’d designed them to fight as a team, and Queen Toriel had encouraged them to make use of those talents. Slim was grateful for that small mercy, at least. Razz might have left him behind long ago otherwise, but so long as Slim remained useful, he was allowed to stay close.

Something hit his blaster—a Tsunderplane’s bomb or maybe a Vulkin’s bolt—and it dissipated with a screech. With a flick of his fingers, violet bones rose up from the street, impaling several monsters so the guardsmen could sweep forward and knock down their HP while they were incapacitated. Despite the music echoing through his skull, he could still hear the screaming. Mouth dry, he turned up the volume. (It was stupid, cutting off his hearing. Anyone could sneak up behind him like this, rooftop or no, and being unable to withstand the screaming was undoubtedly a weakness. Razz would be disgusted with him, if he ever found out.)

His control started to waver and the bone constructs dissipated into smoke. His fingers were shaking now; he needed a moment to rebuild his stamina. Ducking away from the edge of the building, he took a breath—and took a shortcut to another rooftop. _(Words. Words that hurt to hear. Like nails on the inside of his skull. Spoken in a language that should never be spoken._ **MOvE, P1; KeeP mOVing. YoUR hP aNd DF aRE tOO LoW tO WiTHstAnd A dIRecT hiT.** _)_ Creeping forward, he peeked over the rooftop’s edge, looking for Razz.

As always, he was easy to find—just look for the center of the action, and Razz would either be close by or in the heart of it. His soul clenched, seeing his brother slashing and hacking at a group of monsters with a bone sword. Blood, magma, and oil spilled from the injured monsters’ wounds as they first tried to engage, then began to retreat when they realized they couldn’t withstand the Guard Captain’s blows. There was no escape for them, though. Razz was relentless when he’d locked on to a target.

Swallowing, Slim waited. Checking their HP. Checking. Checking— _now_! He lifted a hand and summoned bones, dusting the monsters before his brother could. Razz’s LV was already at 10. He didn’t need to gain any more. (As much as Slim liked and admired Red, he was appalled that Red had allowed his brother to reach LV 13. Even if Edge carried his LV well, he was courting madness nevertheless, and Slim had long ago promised himself that he would _never_ lose his brother to his LV. He’d lost more than enough of him already.)

Razz charged into the gap created by his opponents’ deaths. Guardsmen filled in behind him, beating at the rioters. The enemy’s front line was getting crushed—literally. They tried to retreat, but their own ranks had closed against them, and they were caught between the guards’ offensive magic and their own side’s defensive magic. Alphys could cry ‘freedom’ and ‘justice’ all she wanted, but she led her rebellion just as ruthlessly as she’d led the Guard, and she was more than willing to sacrifice a few pawns if she thought it would benefit her later.

She’d never been the kind to lead from the rear, though, and she’d caught sight of Razz ripping through her men. Slim fit the sucker between his teeth and bit down, causing a shard of sugar to split away. His breathing grew deep and even, his soul seeming to pulse in time with the music. He flexed his fingers and readied himself.

The two of them pushed toward each other, cutting down any enemies that stood in their way or pushing aside any allies. When she was close enough, Alphys dove toward Razz, swords at the ready. Razz ducked and dodged; as much as he hated being called short, he was more than happy to take advantage of the fact that his slight build made him a smaller target. He swept out with his own bone sword and managed to cut her across the thighs. Alphys gave no indicate that she’d even noticed.

Slim suddenly ducked back, soul pounding as the building’s ledge exploded in a cloud of magic and rock dust. Stupid. He’d gotten so fixated on Razz that he’d allowed himself to get distracted, and someone had noticed him. Thankfully, a quick shortcut later, and his attacker had lost track of him. Unfortunately, he’d also lost track of Razz. With a huff, he summoned a pair of gaster blasters and sent them out into the fray, shooting at Alphys’ rearguard. Her rebels stood strong, but the civilian rioters fled under the onslaught. Disgust welled up when he realized just how many civilians she’d managed to rope into this, relying on their LV and fighting instincts to use them as impromptu soldiers.

Now that the field was clearer, guards swept in to strike down the remaining rebels. Slim flexed his fingers, and his blasters separated to harry the enemy, snapping at extended limbs and head-butting rebel monsters to knock them off balance. No one fell to the blasters’ attacks alone, but multiple monsters succumbed to attacks from the guard while they were distracted by the blasters’ antics.

He scanned the battlefield below—hard to believe that a mere two hours ago, it had been a bustling marketplace—searching for Razz and Alphys. When he found them, his soul tightened. _fuck_. Neither of them was doing well, but as he watched, it became obvious that Alphys was winning the fight. The smaller skeleton and the former Guard Captain knew each other so well—knew the other’s fighting style, their strengths and weaknesses. While Razz was adept at avoiding or countering Alphys’ unbridled, sometimes inelegant, forcefulness, ultimately, her greater experience was proving to be the critical factor in this fight. Razz was starting to lag; his usual grace was almost entirely absent from his strikes and dodges, and his neat, precise attacks were starting to go wild.

Then, Razz’ expression went fierce, his mouth pulled into a snarl as he suddenly lunged forward, sweeping out with his bone-sword and infusing it with enough killing intent to cut straight through Alphys’ wrist. Blood wept from the wound and the severed hand turned to dust before it could hit the ground. It was a devastating blow, but Razz had opened himself up when he lashed out, banking on Alphys being too distracted by the sudden pain and the loss of her hand to counterattack.

That was a mistake. He was too close for her to attack with the blade, so she dissipated the sword and instead gathered bright cyan magic around her remaining hand. Then she hooked Razz around his neck with her stump and drove her fist into his ribcage. Again. And again. And—

Slim appeared a few feet from them, relying on the element of surprise to give him the drop on Alphys. He shot several small bone constructs at her face and remaining eye, causing her to startle and fall back. Before she could recover, he swept forward and caught Razz around the middle, erecting a bone picket to ward her off. Already, guards were approaching, weapons drawn. Clutching her maimed arm to her chest, Alphys took a step back, scanning the battlefield. Anger twisted her features, but she yelled something—probably for her soldiers to retreat. Then she turned tail and ran.

Razz tried to push away from Slim, tried to follow her, but Slim covertly tugged the earbuds out of his earholes and said, voice soft and hoarse from disuse, “captain, you’re hurt.”

Razz stared after her and the retreating rebels, breathing hard. He had to be repressing his pain, but he did wince when he glanced down and saw the marrow and spent magic dripping from beneath his armor. Shoving Slim away, he turned to his soldiers and snarled, “Well? Hunt them down you mangy dogs!” If any of them bristled at the slur—the Hotland unit had no actual dogs amongst their number—then they hid it well, and they set out after the rebels immediately. At their backs, Razz screamed, “IF YOU DON’T RETURN WITH THEIR DUST, THEN I’LL BE TAKING YOURS!” An empty threat, but it would encourage them. Many of them had served under Alphys, and there was some concern that they might have mixed loyalties.

As soon as they were out of sight, Razz started to sag. This close, Slim could see that his brother was trembling. He waited, though, eyelights focused on the ground and head slightly bowed, until Razz ordered, his voice strained, “New Home. Now.” Only then did he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and teleport them to the Judgment Hall. Light filtered through the stained glass, giving the whole place a blood-red ambience designed to intimidate. Razz stumbled forward, then dropped to one knee. Slim reached for him, but his hand was batted away.

So he waited, soul heavy and head bowed. Razz made a brief attempt to stand up and continue on, but he slipped on the spent magic puddled beneath him. Laid out on the floor, his hand clenched in frustration. Still, he didn’t ask for help, and Slim wasn’t foolish enough to approach. Until the small hand relaxed, and he could tell that his brother was unconscious. Then he bent and carefully gathered Razz into his arms. Marching forward, he set out for the queen’s lab. She called it her ‘kitchen’, but Slim recognized a laboratory when he saw it. He might have teleported directly there, if the queen wouldn’t have punished him for it.

The guards halted him at the door, and one of them knocked loudly. A few minutes later, a cold voice bid them to enter. Inside, the air was cool and smelled of chlorophyll and pollen, the light just on the wrong side of too bright. Queen Toriel stood at the counter, busy distilling one poison or another from the plants she grew in her garden. She turned marginally to regard them, then sneered when she saw the magic and marrow dripping onto her clean floors. “Put him on the table,” she said, then went back to her project. Her experiment was time-sensitive; Gaster’s experiments could wait for her to finish.

Slim obediently laid Razz on the worktable, keeping his gaze down so that the queen couldn’t catch sight of the hatred in his eyelights. Finally, she turned to them and surveyed Razz. With a quick flick of her claws, she cut through the leather straps holding Razz’ armor on, then discarded the metal plate. Slim closed his sockets and swallowed, again biting down on the sucker. Sugar crunched between his teeth, and he absently started to chew on the stick. The thick matrix of magic over Razz’s ribcage cast a faint purple light over the whole room. It would have been pretty, if it didn’t make Slim feel so sick.

Leaning down, Queen Toriel said, clinically, “Cracked sternum. Shattered ribs. He’ll be useless to me for nearly a week.” Standing straight, she eyed Slim and asked, “Is the traitorous bitch at least dead?” He shook his head. Sneering, she turned away and began rummaging through a cabinet. Without look at him, she ordered, “Summon his soul, dog.”

Slim froze, his own soul starting to crackle with anxiety. It was a unique ability of his—one of the artificial magics that Gaster had hoped might make him more useful in combat. Unfortunately, it was only effective against unguarded monsters. Not particularly helpful in combat—and in most everyday situations, considering how closed-off most Fell monsters were. (He hadn’t tried it on any of the monsters of the Tale-verses. It seemed…cruel. Even if he didn’t actually intend to hurt them.) Unconscious or sleeping monsters, however, were susceptible. He eyed Razz, his bones trembling. Slim didn’t want to obey, but he knew it would only be worse for him—and for Razz—if he tried to refuse.

With a shaking hand, he summoned Razz’ soul just as Queen Toriel turned back to them. He turned away a little. It felt…wrong. Looking at his brother’s soul without his consent. Still, he kept watch out of the corner of his socket, keeping an eyelight on the queen. A huge clawed hand swept out and caught his brother’s soul, while the other hand poured a clear liquid over it. Slim stuffed his hands into his pockets, so that the queen wouldn’t see that he’d clenched them into fists. He had no idea what the substance was, but he couldn’t stop her. He was powerless. Completely. Helpless.

Eyelights out and gaze focused on the floor, he nonetheless saw Razz suddenly jerk awake, gasping and panting in pain. Toriel kept hold of his soul, squeezing it between her fingers. “M-my queen,” he said, voice strained by pain. He didn’t seem nervous, though. Even now, after everything, he adored—worshiped—the pitiless monarch. Slim, sickened, popped a fresh sucker into his mouth, needing something to bite down on now that the other was spent. He shoved his fists back into his pockets, but there was no way he could hide his shaking. Hopefully, the queen would think he was scared, not enraged.

“Captain,” she said, one hand on his mandible while the other still held his soul. “Tell me. Did you allow the traitor to go free?” One claw dug into Razz’ soul. “I know you two were once close.”

“N-no, my queen!” he said, shaking his head frantically. The pain made his voice unsteady and his bones were starting to rattle. “I-I woul-would never b-betray you like that,” he said, panting.

Queen Toriel stared down at him for a few moments longer, cold and implacable. Then she bent a little, tracing a thumb over his jaw. “You once called her ‘friend’, Sans. That was a mistake. Allowing people to get that close only means you’ve given them the chance to stab you in the back.”

“I-I know, my queen,” he choked out, sockets closed as he tried to ride out the pain. “I know.”

Withdrawing, she studied him, studied his soul, and then released it. “I believe you. The stimulant should wear off in an hour. Do not repress your pain while you’re awake. Consider it a sign of my immense disappointment. You are my best warrior, Sans; I expect you to be able to take down an overgrown lizard.” She speared Slim with her gaze. “Take him to his quarters. I’ll send a healer to bandage his injuries when I find it convenient.”

He bowed and picked up his brother, grateful that Razz didn’t fight him. This time, he teleported directly to the Captain’s Quarters. They had their own home in Snowdin, but Razz spent so much time in New Home that it was convenient for him to keep his own set of rooms in the castle. Before he could lay Razz on the bed, though, Razz started to struggle and push him away. Thankfully, the bed was _right there_ , so Slim was able to at least get him onto it before he lost control of the smaller monster. Razz used one arm to support himself as he tried to maneuver into a comfortable position. “I,” Razz said, voice ragged. “I bet you’re—“ He groaned and crushed the coverlet between his clenched phalanges. “—enjoying this, aren’t you, dog?”

_(A small bundle of bones. Too small to speak properly yet. Unable to say ‘Papyrus’. Unable, even, to say ‘Papy’. “P-puppy!” It became an endearment, seldom spoken as they grew older but treasured nonetheless. A name called upon in times of distress, when comfort and shelter was most direly needed. Neither of them could know that it would one day be twisted into an insult.)_

Slim flinched at the harsh words and at the glare from his brother. “no, captain,” he said, looking at the ground. Stars, why would Razz even think such a thing?

His brother grabbed the closest thing at hand—which happened to be a pillow—and flung it at his brother, sneering when Slim allowed it to harmlessly strike his chest. “Liar!” he hissed. He bent at the waist, panting when the pain started to get to him. Slim hung back, looking at his feet though he kept an eyelight on Razz from the edge of his vision. He wanted nothing more than to approach, to offer any kind of comfort he could, but Razz was radiating /MENACE/RAGE/HATRED/SPITE/ _._ If Slim tried to get close, then Razz would only eject him from the room entirely. And Slim was determined to at least be here for his brother, even if Razz only wanted someone to take his frustrations out on.

So Slim took a seat and popped one earbud back into his acoustic meatus, though he turned down the music so he wouldn’t have any trouble hearing if Razz called for him. (Razz would never call for him. Razz hadn’t asked for his help since they were adolescents. Since Toriel got her claws in him.) Otherwise, there was nothing he to be done. He could only wait for the palace healer and endure his brother’s occasional whines.

 

A couple days later, Slim sat on the floor beside Razz’ desk, one leg pulled up against his chest and the other extended. He had one hand tucked into his jacket flap, claws pressing into his sternum. Irritated by his ‘infernal crunching’, Razz had forbidden him from eating any of his suckers. His persistent pain and the paperwork in front of him—his least favorite part of his job—had already put Razz in a particularly foul mood, so Slim was trying his best to be as unobtrusive as possible, least Razz should eject him from the room entirely. Insomuch as Razz would allow, Slim was providing assistance, mainly by taking dictation. (Sometimes, it amused him to consider what Gaster’s reaction would have been, if he could have learned that one of his oh-so prized weapons would spend a good chunk of his life playing secretary. Gaster would have been appalled, and Slim was more than happy to do it for that reason alone.)

Razz grumbled under his breath and shifted on the chair, uncomfortable and no doubt pained by his half-healed injuries. He should be in bed resting, and the suggestion to at least take a break hovered on the tip of Slim’ metaphorical tongue. He bit down on a phalange to hold it in, knowing that Razz would only push himself further if Slim suggested that he could benefit from a break. Or bed rest. That’s what he really needed. Glancing at him, Razz snapped, “Get your filthy fingers out of your filthy mouth.” Under his breath, almost absently, he muttered, “Disgusting.” Still shaking his head, he flipped through Greater Dog’s most recent report, trying to decipher his chicken-scratch (dog-scratch?). “Can you make any sense of this?” Razz demanded, shoving the papers under Slim’ nasal aperture. Brow-bones furrowed, Slim studied the forms. It was difficult, but—

He nodded. Razz stared down at him and, somehow, seemed to take this as further proof of Slim’ uselessness. “Of course,” he said dryly, “It would take a _dog_ to understand.” The slur itself had long ago lost its sting, but the venom in his brother’s voice caused Papyrs to sink his claws deeper into his sternum. Huffing, Razz grabbed a pink sheet from a tab on his desk and stapled it to the top of Greater Dog’s papers. Passing the whole packet down to Slim and without ever actually looking at him, Razz ordered, “Write a message to Greater; if he can’t manage to write a legible report, then I’m going to find someone who _can_ to lead the Canine Unit. Got it?” Slim nodded and started to fill out the pink sheet for the official reprimand. Later, he’d make a note for GD’s personnel file.

Before he could finish writing, though, his phone rang. Razz looked down at him. “Who could possibly be calling _you_?” Slim shrugged, then glanced at his phone. Brow-bones raised, he spun the phone around so Razz could read the screen ID. His brother actually startled a bit, then he set the reports down and turned to fully face his brother. Leaning back and propping his chin on his fist, he observed wryly, “I wasn’t aware you and gutter-trash were so close.” Slim shook his head and shrugged, just as baffled as Razz. “Well? Answer it, dog—where are you manners? Look at the wall, though. No reason to give him any extraneous information.”

Not stupid enough to disobey a direct order, Slim fixed his gaze on the wall ahead of him and flipped open the phone. “Slim?” Edge asked, “This is your number, right?” Slim nodded slowly, taking advantage of the fact that Edge actually would be able to see his response. “Good,” Edge said, and Slim cocked his head slightly, noting the faintest trace of strain in Edge’s voice. He’d never seen Edge anything other than perfectly in control and put together—even when he was angry, he always seemed like he was holding himself in check. “I can’t find Red,” he said, “I was hoping.” Edge took a breath. “I hoped he might have sought you out. We had a small disagreement, and I know he sometimes….” Edge fell silent, and Slim realized that he’d automatically gotten to his feet, soul pounding in fear. “He’s not there, is he?” The question was merely a formality.

“no,” Slim said, “have you checked with rus or paps? he…he likes the papyrus-es.” His voice had gone softer as he spoke, just as he grew more self-conscious with each word. He ducked his head and pulled his hood over his skull, needing the security.

“Neither of them have seen him. He’s nowhere in either of the Tale-verses. We’ve checked.”

Scraping a claw across his sternum, Slim said, “he’s fell; he can handle himself.” Later, he would wonder who ‘we’ was exactly, but for now, it didn’t matter.

“Yes. When he’s not being stupid,” Edge agreed, but he left the sentence hanging. It was obvious what he thought of his brother’s current activities. “Promise you’ll call me, if he shows up.” Slim didn’t say anything, and Edge sighed deeply. “You don’t need to protect him from me. Yes, I’ll be angry with him later, but right now, I just need to know that he’s okay. That’s all.” There was the faintest note of desperation in his voice, causing Slim’s soul to squeeze.

Finally, he said, “promise.”

“Thank you.” For a moment, Slim had the insane urge to offer his help. He was a teleporter, and he was familiar enough with Underfell. He could help. He could be useful. He could— But he held his silence, and Edge didn’t ask. Because, when it came down to it, neither of them could trust the other. So Edge simply hung up, and Slim tucked his phone back into his pocket, his soul crackling with worry over Red.

Razz looked him up and down, and Slim tried not to squirm under his scrutiny. Digging his claws into his sternum, he was fairly certain that he failed at that. “So, dog, what did gutter-trash want?”

Slim stared at the ground between his feet, shifting uneasily. “he. he was looking for red.”

Briefly, Razz’s sockets widened, then he scoffed and turned back to the paperwork. “And here I thought that there might actually be _one_ papyrus that was good for something. Honestly, I’m disappointed.” Slim took in his posture, noting with mounting concern that Razz’s fingers were clenched tightly around the pen in his hand and his shoulders were tense. He started shuffling through his papers, agitated. “What a fool,” he spat, disgust clear in his voice. Then he turned back suddenly, spearing Slim with the intensity of his gaze. “He was actually concerned about that lazy sack of—“ He clenched his mouth, censoring himself. Such language was uncouth and unrefined, and Razz did not often stoop to such.

To Slim’s surprise, Razz actually seemed to expect a response, so Slim shrugged. This only stoked Razz’s fury. He stood, slamming his hand onto the desktop. “I’m in no mood for your little act, dog! That was a yes or no question, and you very well know the answer! So, which is it? Yes? Or no?”

Wishing that his jacket might grow teeth and swallow him up, Slim ducked his head and said, “yes.”

Razz sneered. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He shook his head, then started to pace. Slim stifled a whine, knowing that his brother’s ribs had to be hurting him. But Razz, despite the pinched expression on his face, was making an effort to conceal his pain. “You’re all useless,” he snarled under his breath. Slim shrank away, but his brother wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Slim may as well have been a lamp for all the attention Razz paid him. “Sentimental. Emotional. _Weak_. Gutter-trash just hides it better than the rest of you. Worse, you all try to drag _us_ down with you!” Now Razz turned to regard him, eyelights blazing. “And you’re the worst of all!” he snapped, marching up to Slim. “No matter how hard I try to drive you off, you just keep coming back. Like a big. Dumb. Dog.”

Breathing hard, he pointed to the door. “Out.”

Slim, shaking, nonetheless said, “captain, please—“

“Get. Out. Before I finally decide you’re worth the EXP after all.”

Though it hurt his soul to leave Razz in such a state, he was obviously only upsetting his brother. He teleported away, allowing instinct to guide him. Seeing where his blind shortcut had taken him, he smiled a little. Popping one earbud into his acoustic meatus, he pushed open the door, causing the bells to chime. Razz wouldn’t be happy he’d come here, but Slim didn’t want to be alone right now. His soul _ached_ , ready to reach out to someone—anyone—for comfort. Ordinarily, he might have called Red, just to listen to him talk—Red was usually happy to complain about Edge or gossip about the other universes, and best of all, he never seemed put out that Slim wasn’t all that keen to talk himself—but Red was not available, and that too made his soul buzz unsteadily. He paused in the entryway to send Red a text, asking if he was okay, then he looked up and surveyed the bar.

This early in the day, Muffet’s was nearly deserted. Once the artificial daylight dimmed to simulate nighttime, it would begin to fill, though. Muffet’s was one of the few places in the Underground that actually qualified as a ‘safe zone’, and monsters were eager to take advantage. In a few hours, the Guard Dogs would co-opt the table in the corner for their weekly poker game—paying Muffet a percentage of the pot for the privilege, of course. Other monsters would file in to rent one of the rooms above for an hour or two. And if they knew the right words to whisper to the right person, they could arrange to have another monster waiting in the room for them as well. Others would come simply for food and drink…and maybe a baggie of something a little stronger.

Right now, though, Slim was the only customer present. Industrious spiders spun webs in the rafters, dangling place settings and menus overhead. Spiderlings, the spiders’ larger cousins, were busy wiping down the tables and mopping the floors. Seeing him, one of the spiderlings scuttled from the room while a small spider dropped from the ceiling to set out a napkin and a menu at his usual place at the bar. Tapping his fingers to the music in his skull, Slim slid onto the stool and laid his head atop his crossed arms. Soon enough, the spiderling returned with Muffet in tow.

Seeing her, he returned her quiet smile. She leaned on the bar across from him and trailed a hand over his cheekbone. He couldn’t help but notice that the pink bow around her throat was striking against her violet skin and the black dress she wore hugged her curves perfectly. As she studied him, though, her smile faded and a worry-line appeared above her nose and between her primary eyes. Cupping his face in her hands, she cocked her head to one side, searching his eyelights. He flinched a little, dropping his gaze.

She laid her hand flat on the bar in front of him, demanding his attention. His shoulders pulled in, but he didn’t look up at her. Sighing, she turned her hand over, like an offering. Trembling in an uncomfortable mix of trepidation and desire, he accepted her hand, and she guided him around the bar, leading him into the back, past the kitchen and into her private rooms. Only when she locked the door did he allow himself to curl inward completely, trying to make himself as small as possible.

He felt like he was being crushed. By his brother’s disgust and displeasure. By his own hatred for the queen. By the memory of blood and dust painting the streets. By his worry for Red. It was too much. He couldn’t handle it, and—

Muffet caught his face between her hands and tilted his head down so she could kiss him. Gently. (Too gently.) She pulled back, brushing her fingers over his cheekbone. He leaned into the touch, a small sigh escaping him. It was not a relieved sound, though, but one of pain. A sigh threatening to become a sob. She dragged a hand down his long torso, unzipping his jacket as she did so. Sweeping her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, she pushed the jacket off. Taking the earbuds out of his earholes, she set his music player and earbuds aside.

Shivering a little, he swallowed tightly, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Even as she leaned away to hang his coat on the back of the door, though, she squeezed his hand. Reminding him that he wasn’t alone here, that she was with him. It made him feel better, but he was still shaking. Bringing a skeletal hand up to her mouth, she pressed a kiss to his knuckles, lightly nipping at the joints. (Too lightly.)

If he allowed her, she’d drag this out, unwrapping him like a gift. (Heh. A gag gift, maybe.) So Slim shucked off his shirt and trousers without preamble, bare-boned but for his boxers. Suddenly, a dark look crossed Muffet’s face and she bared her fangs, touching the marks on his sternum. He almost laughed at her jealousy, then matched the marks to his own claws. Her eyes winked one at a time, then she blushed faintly, realizing her mistake. He smiled to show her that he wasn’t upset.

It took her a few seconds to regain her confidence, but soon enough she was pushing him back toward the bed, kissing him hungrily. Her claws raked over his ribs, and he hissed, but leaned into the pain. She trilled a little, pleased with his reaction, then she pushed him onto the bed. Obediently, he scooted up and watched her rummage through her nightstand. Soon enough, she produced a baggie and held it out to him. He eyed it and her, thinking. Too aware of the crushing weight on his chest and the tightness of his soul.

Sockets closed and throat tight, he made his decision. Reaching out with a shaking hand, he plucked two white pills from the baggie.

He popped them into his mouth and ground them between his teeth. The resulting bitterness was so strong it ached—at once acrid and electric, and seeming to crawl up the side of his face, deep in the bone. Muffet made a face and shook her head, rolling her eyes at his behavior. Grinning, he leaned forward, but she pushed him away—there would be no kisses for him now, not while his mouth tasted of crushed pills. Already, his soul was beginning to heat and his limbs started to feel limp and loose.

She pressed him down, so he was lying on his back, and she climbed up until she was straddling his chest. Grabbing his music player, she set it to the side and pushed the earbuds into his acoustic meati. She pressed play, turning up the volume until he made a gesture with his hand. Music pounded through his skull and he tilted his head back, the slow, heavy beat seeming to sync to his soul’s thrumming. It rolled through him like a physical force, and he lost himself to it briefly. He blinked a little in confusion when Muffet shook him to get his attention, only to have her press a hand over his sockets. Then he realized what she was asking and nodded.

Her weight lifted off him as she leaned over to retrieve the blindfold. His soul felt heavy, almost solid. He actually sat up a little to double check that it hadn’t manifested without his consent. Shaking her head, she pushed him back down and blindfolded him. She kissed his forehead, then grasped his hands and bound them above his head with spider silk, sticking them to the headboard. Blind and deaf to all but the music echoing through his bones, he might have felt isolated and alone, but Muffet draped her body over his. He sank into the sensations, lost himself to the touch of claw and fang on bone.

She fitted her mouth over his bottommost rib and bit down, causing his body to jerk. She started to pull back, but he shook his head. She hesitated, so he said, “more.” A claw ran over the injured bone, almost like an apology. Then she left him for a moment. Only then did his soul start to pulse nervously, terrified of being left alone. She returned a moment later, though. The drugs kept his body pliant and loose—and that was the only reason he didn’t buck her off when he felt the touch of naked flame on his bare bones. He couldn’t hear himself, but he knew he had to have whimpered or whined as she trailed the flame slowly over his sternum. Her free hands started to caress his pelvis and iliac crests, creating a confusing mix of sensations that should have caused him to jerk beneath her. The drugs were doing their job, though; he couldn’t fight her, even instinctively.

His poor soul was in turmoil: magic agitated by the drugs, aroused by the hand on his pelvic inlet, and panicked by the fire trailing over his ribcage. The confusion was what he wanted, though. What he needed. As long as his mind was focused on the pain, on the too-loud pulse of music, and the sensation of a body atop his own, he _wasn’t_ thinking about the screams of the rebels or the blood and ichor and dust staining the streets. He wasn’t thinking about his brother’s shattered ribcage or the queen’s clinical observation _—(“He’ll be useless to me for nearly a week.”)_ —or the hatred and anger in his brother’s eyelights. _(“GET OUT!”)_ Or the honest worry in Edge’s voice. He wasn’t. He _wasn’t_.

Sockets clenched shut behind the blindfold, he said, again, “more.” This time, she didn’t listen. Her limits were more rigid than his own, and later, perhaps, when he was nursing the burn marks on his ribs and pelvis, he would be appreciative of that. But for now, he wished that she wasn’t quite so strong-willed. He could still hear his brother’s orders to leave, could still see the violet glow of the matrix covering his shattered ribcage.

The effect of the drugs was growing stronger, though, and even though the combination of pleasure and pain couldn’t wash away the thoughts entirely, the drugs made it more difficult to care. Everything began to feel abstract. Disconnected. Disjointed. Heh. Disjointed. He started to laugh, and Muffet crawled up his body to tangle her tongue with his, sinking her fangs into his conjured magic. Mana wept from the wounds, and she drank it down.

A disjointed skeleton. Heh. Yep—it sure as fuck felt like he was falling apart. At least he had someone he trusted to put him back together again, though.

 

Razz spent a long time staring at the door after his brother was gone. His cheekbones weren’t damp. They weren’t. That sort of weakness was beneath him. And his soul certainly didn’t feel like it was going to shatter at any moment. No. No, it didn’t.

This was the way things had to be. Papyrus made him weak, and he could not afford to be weak.

This was the way things had to be. This was—

He crumpled to the ground and cradled his skull in his hands, barring the door with bone constructs so no one could walk in and see him like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: violence, graphic injuries, "Bad Brother AU" (but no physical abuse), moderate sexual content, drug use, unsafe sexual practices, extreme masochism/assisted self-harm. 
> 
> If the last four triggers are worrying for you, keep reading: these triggers are actually part of the 'comfort' portion of this chapter. Stop reading after "(Too lightly)" if you want to avoid them. Start reading again after the break, when we switch POVs.
> 
>  
> 
> Spoilers (kinda) below:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ...and we meet the skeletons that desperately need to be adopted by a set of Tale-verse alternates. Cripes. I'm sorry. (If I can figure out a basic plot, I'll probably revisit these guys and the fucked-up mess they've made of themselves. It honestly hurts me to leave them like this. They could be worse off, but still.... They make me sad.)
> 
> Also, remember that phone call Edge mentioned at the end of Chapter 11? No? Well, this is that phone call.

**Author's Note:**

> And now I have a tumblr.
> 
>  
> 
> [@itsladykit](https://itsladykit.tumblr.com/)


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